


The Future Is Ours (Whether We Want It Or Not)

by ann2who



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Trailer, Infinity Gauntlet, Infinity Gems, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-04 07:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14015520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ann2who/pseuds/ann2who
Summary: After a hit from the Time Stone, Steve switches places with his future self.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had planned not to post this for a while, but I figured I should do it before the movie comes out and permanently crushes my heart. The story will have 5 chapters in total. Will post regularly. Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Also: A big thanks to my beta-reader morphia-writes. She did a wonderful job with it, as always.

_* * 4/27/18, 4:23 PM * *_

_Tony_

 

Tony stood in the doorway and watched as Steve started to shave off his beard.

Steve was studying himself in the mirror and slowly swiped the razor over his skin, his movements measured and well practiced. If it weren’t for the dried blood that crusted his lower lip, as well as the bruises and cuts that mapped his face, one could almost believe this was an everyday shave.

And not Steve preparing himself for yet another battle.

It was odd, seeing him so bruised. It probably had been a while since Steve’d been hurt this much. Not even Tony had managed to injure him like this in Siberia… and certainly not for lack of trying.

Softly, Tony cleared his throat, making his presence known.

Steve paused, the razor freezing between his fingers, and his eyes flickered to Tony’s reflection in the mirror.

Tony braced himself. They hadn’t really talked, yet. Had only shared the necessary information they’d gathered about Thanos, and made a few hurried plans for the next hours. There simply hadn’t been much time for more.

Or that’s what Tony told himself, because the truth was—despite the fact that he’d called Steve, asking him to come back to New York, he had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

No idea whatsoever.

Where could he possibly start?

Sure, he could play it all off. Get back to business, which would likely be wise, since they really needed to get down to business—and _fast_. But apart from that, and despite everything that had happened, he wanted… he wanted for them to be able to look into each other’s eyes again without flinching.

It was too much to ask for, considering, but Tony had never backed down from a challenge. And if he wanted closure, he needed to say _something_ before it was literally too late.

Steve was still looking at him through the mirror, Tony realized. So he cleared his throat once more, and said: “Just wanted to see if you have everything you need.”

“I do,” Steve said. Weirdly enough, even with his beefy shoulders, he looked almost dwarfed in the large bathroom.

Tony nodded. After a beat, he reached to the floor next to himself, and took Steve’s shield into his hands. “And I wanted to give this back.”

He raised the disc up a little, and when he was sure Steve had seen it, leaned it against the wall next to the bathroom door.

Steve visibly swallowed as he took in the shield, its new paint-job—blue and red and very shiny. New and untainted.

“Tony…”

“It belongs to you,” Tony said. “I know you don’t need it…”—he’d _seen_ the Wakandan shield after all—“…but I think you should have it, anyway. It’s yours. So… you’d do me a favor to take it back.”

Steve sighed softly. “Thank you,” he said.

And then, they just stared at each other through the mirror, apparently both at a loss for words.

Steve’s shoulders straightened slightly. “I’m glad you called, by the way.”

“I’m glad you came,” Tony answered.

“I told you I would,” Steve said, and while his expression didn’t give away much, he still managed to look a bit sad.

Tony nodded once more. The one hand in his pocket took the old phone in hand, twirled it. The movement was almost habitual by now. “Well, it’s good to see you.”

Steve turned around at that, putting the razor down at last. Half of his face was already done, and he finally started to look like the Steve Tony remembered—not that weary, unkempt and strangely bearded guy that had arrived in the morning, here, at Tony’s very last safe house.

A crooked smile rose to Steve’s lips. “We always got along best when there was an apocalypse at hand, didn’t we?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Tony said. He reached for his other phone—the one that wasn’t embarrassingly outdated. “I’ll let you clean up in peace. Gotta make a call.”

Steve’s gaze got piercing. “Who?”

“Everyone,” Tony said, though he really hated calling all of the newbies in. Especially Parker. There was no way to tell if the boy would survive the battle and he was… he was too damn young to die. “I’m gonna call every single one of them. And if you’ve made a few new friends, go ahead and offer them free lodging until the world ends.”

“Which might as well be tomorrow,” Steve said, and despite the gravity of the situation, it still sounded somewhat amused.

Tony shrugged. He guessed by now they had seen and done too much to really despair over another warlord trying to wipe out the universe.

Or half of it. Whatever.

“Don’t get pessimistic on me now, Cap,” he said. And that was _all_ he said before he turned away, and no sooner did he feel the burn of Steve’s gaze boring into the back of his neck.

Things were decidedly not okay between them. And a part of him—a rather large part—still hated Steve a little bit for what had happened. For not talking to him about his parents, for not believing in him enough to work together.

It wasn’t okay. And maybe it never would be again. But they had shared a few civil words, had even smiled at each other.

It was a start.

 

* * 4/28/18, 3:49 PM * *

_Tony_

 

The world really did end the next day. Or at least Thanos tried to make it happen with everything he had. And what he had was a huge army of alien-soldiers, a bunch of giant alien-ships, a few alien-children with a temper problem and the rest of his crazy Black Order, one fighter deadlier than the other.

Oh, and he had become the living embodiment of the universe.

In other words: They were royally fucked.

Below them, the city was exploding into chaos, aliens attacking through all its streets and buildings. Heroes, SHIELD agents, even the US Army and the goddamn NYPD were fighting them off as good as they could, but it was all no use if Thanos couldn’t be stopped within the next few minutes.

“We won’t last much longer,” Tony yelled at Steve, who stood next to him, staring into the sky. The good few dozen spaceships above the city where a sight to behold, but the more worrying matter was the storm of raw energy crackling through the air.

Right in front of them, Thanos’ lifeless body lay on the floor, the fluorescent lights of the Infinity Stones blazing down on him, exposing his grotesque alien features.

Once he’d gathered every single one of the stones, once he’d reached his goal, he’d become so powerful that he’d simply left his body behind, becoming something… else.

Something that would tear apart the very fiber of the universe, if they didn’t stop him.

“How do we beat him if there isn’t anything to _beat?”_ Tony stared at Steve, who still just looked into the sky, doing absolutely nothing. “Cap!”

Still nothing.

Steve, like everyone else, seemed to be shaken to his bones.

“Steve!”

Steve blinked and finally quit his staring-contest, turning to him. He’d lost his helmet at some point and his eyes—his eyes were mirroring each and every loss he’d endured in the last few years.

And for the first time since knowing him, Steve looked utterly hopeless.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted and took a deep breath. “We’ll just have to keep fighting.”

A part of Tony wanted to yell at him for that, but he had to admit he had no better solution.

How do you fight someone who’s… everywhere? Who’s the very essence of being himself?

“What about the Gauntlet?” Natasha asked as she stepped up next to them. She nodded down at Thanos’ body. The Gauntlet was still on his left hand, glowing slightly. “If we destroy it—”

“Pointless,” Strange said. “Thanos took the power of the Infinity Stones with him. The Gauntlet is still linked to his essence, but by now, he took all its power with him. The only one who’s able to stop all this is Thanos himself.”

He didn’t sound exactly despaired, Tony thought, but the meaning behind Strange’s words was still painfully clear: They’d lost this battle. They hadn’t stopped Thanos in time.

And billions of lives would have to pay for it.

Somewhere to Tony’s left, Barnes snorted. “So you say we should just lean back and watch the show?”

Tony would’ve loved to snap at him, tell him that he wasn’t exactly coming up with any helpful ideas himself. But the grown-up part of his brain knew that yelling at Barnes should be the last thing on his priority list.

Later.

If he ever got the chance.

In the distance, thunder roared, and blasts of energy started to illuminate their surroundings. It was as if the sky was coming apart at its seams, as if it was cracking in the middle, taking the very essence of life with it.

A lot of things were going through Tony’s mind, just then. He wished he could call Pepper once more, apologize for the clusterfuck that had been their relationship. He wished he could step out of the suit and hug Rhodey until the world ended. And he wished… God, he wished he had more time to… to…

After closing his eyes briefly, Tony looked at Steve again. And it was startling to realize that not being able to mend things with Steve would probably be his deepest regret.

And Steve wouldn’t know. He would never know, much less believe, how much Tony had cared for him. And that Tony was glad, that—if nothing else—Steve had been at his side during their last minutes. Pepper, Rhodey, Happy… they all knew how much Tony cared for them.

But Steve didn’t.

“I can still stop him,” someone said behind them. They all turned around, and Tony stared at the blue woman with the robotic features.

“What?” he asked eloquently. He couldn’t even remember her name.

“I can stop him,” she repeated, her voice determined.

“Nebula, no,” the green woman said, clutching the blue woman’s arm.

Fuck. Tony really should’ve kept track of the newbies. The two were sisters, if he recalled correctly. Sisters who had sworn to fight each other to the death at some point, but still sisters.

Nebula and Gamora, right. Thanos’ _daughters_.

“This is not your choice,” Nebula told Gamora and shook the hand off again.

“There’s no way to reach him now,” Strange interrupted. “And even if there was… The sudden rush of omnipotence is too much for even the finest mind. Thanos likely didn’t care about the consequences, but if you try to wield the Stones’ powers all by yourself, it _will_ end you—their combined force is simply too much for one soul to handle.”

Nebula shook her head. “I don’t care. I will be the one killing him. He is mine to end.”

Once more, Gamora stepped forward to catch her sister’s elbow. “There has to be another way, Nebula.”

There was a loud crack in the sky, and they all raised their gazes. Blasts cut through the air, and suddenly buildings were crushed like they were made of paper.

Tony’s eyes widened at the sight, as one skyscraper after the other just… vanished. And here he’d thought he’d seen it all. Giant portals, flying cities, speaking trees, but… this… it was…

 _That up there… that’s the endgame,_ he remembered himself saying.

He’d never hated being right as much as he did now.

 _Half the universe,_ Gamora had said.

What a terrible thought.

“It’s started,” Natasha said, her voice terribly soft. “He’s tearing it apart… everything.”

Tony nodded and felt the guilt and the sheer panic of it rush through his every fiber.

How had they messed this up so badly?

Before he could truly sink into the feeling of utter failure, however, Nebula suddenly stormed forward and several things happened all at once.

Gamora was yelling something as Nebula took the Gauntlet off of Thanos’ lifeless hand. Her boyfriend, or whatever they were to each other—Peter Quill—and her entire team all had to hold her back, so she wouldn’t step in the way.

Nebula pushed her own hand into the Gauntlet, and it adjusted immediately, shrinking in size, fitting perfectly around her slim fingers. A deafening sound emerged, and amazingly, the Infinity Stones came to life once more.

“Impossible,” Strange gasped, disbelieving. He was doing something with his hands, green lights flickering along his fingers, and his eyes widened.

“She’s linked to him,” Gamora said, sobbing as she fell down on her knees. “I didn’t know, I… I think he’s sewn parts of himself into her.”

Tony’s eyes widened as he stared up at her. Nebula was murmuring something to herself even as she began to tremble. After a moment, her feet left the floor, her body hovering in the air. The Infinity Gauntlet was pure blazing light and once she spoke, her voice reverberated with the sound of many people speaking simultaneously. _“Life,”_ she breathed. “ _Matter_.” On the next beat, time seemed to freeze. It seemed that the Stones’ power began to seep into Nebula’s body, making it light up from within.

And slowly breaking it apart.

It was terrible. And beautiful in its power.

With a casual pass of her hand, Nebula turned the energy blasts in the sky into soft raindrops.

In the distance, skyscrapers rebuilt themselves, trees were rooted in the earth once more.

“She’s turning it back,” Steve breathed next to Tony, the hopeless look gone from his eyes.

And it was true: Everything seemed to be going in reverse. The sky became whole again, lives were restored, and even Thanos began to twitch beneath them.

Which meant—

“Avengers, now!” Tony yelled, almost at the same time as Steve, and all of them— _every single one of them_ who were still able to fight—stormed forwards. Tony saw Captain Marvel, Thor, Gamora and Peter—both Peters, really—rushing towards Thanos’ body.

He closed his faceplate again and brought his thrusters to full speed, following them. When he flew past Steve, he caught his arms and raised him up into the air.

It was just in time, because in the next second, Thanos jolted awake and—“How...?”

He couldn’t say more, because Steve was already ramming his shield against Thanos’ chest. The battle that followed was hard but short-lived, because while actually beating Thanos proved to be very good for the soul, it was ultimately Stephen Strange who put the warlord in some kind of stasis. His pupils were still flickering, angry shallow breaths leaving his large nose and mouth, but otherwise, he wasn’t moving any longer.

The Infinity Stones, on the other hand, were still blazing with life. And while Gamora tried to yank at the Gauntlet still attached to Nebula’s left hand, it was futile. Stephen Strange held the Stones steady, but Nebula had already sunk on the floor, her body limp and lifeless.

She was dead. She’d known it would happen, probably… and yet…

“We can’t… destroy them…” the Sorcerer Supreme said, gasping with the strain. “Not without setting their power free once more.”

Steve eyed the Stones. “Then scatter them,” he said. “Send them through time and space, so no one can find them anymore. Not all of them—never again.”

“And take him with it,” Tony suggested with a nod towards Thanos, his voice grave.

Gamora stormed forward, tears in her eyes. “You won’t take him,” she snarled.

“They have to,” Peter Quill said, looking into Gamora’s eyes. “Nebula wouldn’t want it to be for nothing.”

Something raw and animalistic left Gamora’s throat then, and she sunk against Peter’s chest, shaking.

“Do it,” Peter said, staring at Strange first, then at Thanos. “And make sure he won’t see the light of day ever again.”

The Infinity Stones still levitated in the air as Strange chanted a few words, and in a blink, the stasis that’d held Thanos in thrall increased and made his body slowly turn into stone.

Everyone around them seemed to drop, drained of energy, as Tony leaned back in his suit, glad it was holding him up for the time being.

“Well,” Clint said, as so often the first to find his words, after Strange’s chanting came to an end. “That was—”

The Stones were vanishing, one after the other, but all of a sudden, there was an odd vibration in the air.

Tony whirled around, and he could almost believe Thanos’ face had frozen with the beginning of a smirk on his lips, when a final blast came loose from the last remaining stone.

Its green light flashed violently.

_The Time Stone._

“Duck!” Natasha was yelling, running towards Tony.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he realized the blast was directed at _him_.

Everyone scrambled for his position, and in the blink of an eye, Tony saw Steve running for him—throwing his shield at him. It hit the blast straight-on, redirecting it…

…at _himself_.

“No!” Tony yelled, unsure what was even happening, but the beam already hit Steve. Just a second before Strange could wrangle its powers again, Steve fell to the ground, staring at the thundering sky, unmoving.

Tony watched, as if he was having an out-of-body-experience, as Barnes heaved Steve into his arms. He himself fell down at his knees in front of Steve, watching in horror as Steve faded, turning translucent. Tony could see the floor beneath him through the mist of his dissipating body.

_No._

“Tony… I….” Steve started, his fading blue eyes wide as he stared at him. “I’m s… s….”

“I know, I know,” Tony answered. “Me—me too.”

Steve’s lips were moving, as if he was trying to say something, but no sound was to be heard anymore.

Even his shield, lying a few feet away from them, faded into nothing.

“No _,”_ Tony breathed as he took Steve’s hand in his. “Fuck—Strange! What can we do? What—”

But it was too late. Steve had already vanished, his fingers brushing Tony’s one last time, almost gently. And Tony…

…Tony just sat there, still frozen in the forward-leaning stance, staring at the empty ground in utter defeat.

 

* * ?/?/?, ?:?? * *

_Steve_

 

In all his years, Steve reckoned he had never known such softness. It was all around him. Everywhere. Encompassing him with the pure radiance of suggestion.

_Dead. I’m dead._

But no. He wasn’t. He remembered what it had felt like to be drowning in ice. It hadn’t felt like this.

The next thing Steve knew he was falling… or _not_ falling, but he left the soft space around him and—“Ugh,” Steve grunted as he dropped on some floor, or rather, on a very fluffy, very colorful rug. His shield fell down right next to him and Steve immediately reached for it, bracing himself for what was to come. One quick look at his surroundings told him he didn’t know this place, but at least, it didn’t look like a hostile environment.

Pushing himself up onto his knees, Steve stared at the room around him. No, he _did_ know this place. It was just that a lot of things rang foreign. He was in the living room at the New Avengers Facility. The couches were different, though, and so were the floor, the curtains and the rest of the furniture. Only a few things were familiar. The African artwork Bruce had put next to one of the coffee tables, for example, but on its left was now a big TV screen and a truly impressive sound system had been added.

Okay, he had to take a deep breath. Maybe his situation wasn’t so bad. After all, he hadn’t been to the Facility since… well, since before leaving for Peggy’s funeral in 2016. Maybe Tony had just redecorated the place—maybe the Infinity Stone had just transported him here, a few miles away from New York City?

It certainly was a nice thought. That way, he could just call the others, let them know that he was fine and that he’d meet them back in Manhattan and…

Yeah, who was he kidding?

On a long sigh, Steve rose to his feet, leaning his shield against one of the couches. Only now that his surrounding was perfectly clean, he realized how dirty he truly was. His uniform was torn in a lot of places and his skin was stained with ash and grime.

Alright, first things first: He needed to figure out where he was. Only then, he could figure out a way to go back.

There was a picture frame on a small end table in front of him and a smile rose to Steve’s lips as he took it in his hands. The photograph showed all of the initial Avengers—Nat, Bruce, Thor, Clint, Tony and him. Steve remembered the moment well. It had been a couple of months after the Chitauri invasion, just after they had moved into Avengers Tower. Tony had declared it a ‘Historic Event’ and forced them to wear their full battle gear as they posed on the landing platform of Avengers Tower.

Steve had been annoyed at first. By the end of it, he’d gotten cramps in his stomach from laughing too hard.

God, it was hard to believe they’d all been this happy once.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Steve put the picture back down. He frowned once he spotted the one next to it. Another photograph. And this one… it was a photograph of Steve, Sam and… and Bucky. They were at some kind of theme park, wearing stupid hats, and cotton candy, and popcorn and…

Steve didn’t remember this day.

And more importantly: Why would Tony allow a picture of Bucky here?

It even looked slightly faded.

There was a bad feeling rising inside Steve’s stomach and his glance fell on a Stark Pad lying on another coffee table. He walked over there, frowning when he didn’t even find the Home Button, but once he raised the thing up, the home screen flashed on and Steve almost fell over in shock.

The date was June 11th.

_2022._

“Oh no,” Steve breathed. Slowly, as if in trance, he walked into the kitchen area. There was a paper calendar on the wall—a tradition Clint had once insisted on—and it was set to the month of June and the year on it was 2022.

 _Not again,_ Steve thought, letting himself fall back against the kitchen counter.

 _Please_.

Numbly, he stared at his reflection in the dark surface of the oven. He couldn’t… he couldn’t _think_. The only thought he could grasp, as he looked at himself, was that he missed his beard. It had made him feel like someone else. Shaving it off had only taken a few minutes, but once he’d looked at his clean face and the once-more short hair, he’d felt as though years had passed.

Steve startled at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

“Steve, is that James?” It was Nat’s voice—and she called from somewhere in the next room. “It better be, otherwise we’re going to be late.”

_Late?_

“I…” Steve said, not knowing what to say, but then, the front door just beneath the living room opened and closed, and Bucky walked into the kitchen.

It really was Bucky. Right here, in the Facility! Except it was a slightly older Bucky, with shorter hair and even a few gray ones at his temple.

Because this… this was a future version of Bucky.

“Hey, Stevie,” he said with a smile. “Is Nat ready?”

“Uh...”

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and then, Nat walked into the room. Nat, who… who had red hair again, so long that it fell over one shoulder in wavy curls. She wore casual clothes, and had a bag slung over her shoulders.

Steve leaned further against the kitchen island because his legs were threatening to fold under him.

Yeah, this clearly wasn’t 2018 anymore.

“You are late. Again,” Nat exclaimed as she pointed accusingly at Bucky. “We’ve got to be at the hangar in five minutes.”

“They won’t go without us, will they?”

“No, but I had _plans_ for today.” Nat gave Steve a pointed look that meant nothing to him, but seemed to mean a lot to her. Steve tried for a smile and said nothing.

It was strange, though. Neither Nat nor Bucky seemed to see anything different about him. He was still wearing his armor, after all, which was decidedly torn and battle-stained.

Shouldn’t they realize something was off?

Before he could finish the thought, the elevator dinged and Iron Man walked in. It was a model Steve didn’t recognize—and it was stained all over with some greenish powder.

“I really hate aliens,” Tony exclaimed with a groan as he pulled the helmet off and promptly stepped out of the suit. Once he’d done that, it folded in itself, until it wasn’t much larger than a cube. “Jo, be a darling and run Decon-Protocol.”

“Of course, boss,” a female voice that was decidedly not FRIDAY answered, and Steve blinked as a small drone came flying into the room, picking up the cube before leaving again.

“Nice,” Nat said, grinning at Tony, who was now only wearing boxer-briefs and a black tank top. There were a few drops of that green slime on his arms and legs as well, Steve noticed, but otherwise, he looked mostly the same as Steve remembered him. Maybe a few more gray hairs as well.

“I know.” With a disgusted expression, Tony pulled the tank top off and threw it on the floor, now standing top-less before them—something Steve had _never_ seen Tony do. He’d never even seen his chest, figuring Tony was uncomfortable showing his scars, but now he seemed absolutely fine with it. Unbothered, he walked over to the sink and began washing his face, chest and arms. “I _hate_ aliens.”

“But it’s gone?” Bucky asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony said with a grin, rubbing more soap into his skin. “It never stood a chance. Carol and Thor did that new thing they trained for, and that was basically it. They struck him down so hard it exploded on the spot. Magnificent, I tell you. Right, Steve?”

Steve frowned. Whatever battle Tony was referring to, it seemed he’d been part of it. Which sort of explained why none of them were surprised to see him in full battle gear.

“Right,” he tried.

“That stuff though…” Tony said, still scrubbing his skin furiously. “It’s like falling into field of stinging nettle and posion ivy which is inhabited by a hive of fire ants. It’s not contagious, Jo confirmed so, but I feel like peeling off my skin. _Fuck_.”

“Good thing it wasn’t you who ran up against it,” Bucky said, and it took Steve a moment to realize he’d been talking to _him_. “Though it’s hard to believe you could resist playing the knight in shiny armor for once.”

“Ohh, he couldn’t,” Tony said, grinning at them. “He very much tried to pull me out of the way, but I was faster this time. Only a few drops got past the armor, so it was definitely better that way. Steve would’ve scratched his skin raw.”

Steve stared at them. That whole exchange was puzzling and he couldn’t believe how friendly everyone seemed to be with each other.

Heck, Tony even _winked_ at Bucky.

“Well, we’ve got to go,” Nat exclaimed, then stepped up to Tony. To Steve’s wonder, she caught his face in her hands and pecked him on the corner of his mouth, being careful to curve her body so that she didn’t touch him anywhere else where the slime might have landed.

Next to Steve, Bucky just smiled benevolently as he watched.

Nat pulled Steve in for a hug, then caught Bucky by the hand and dragged him towards the front door. “Bye, everyone. See you in a week.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Tony called after them.

Steve watched them go, his mouth likely still open.

By now, his mind had sort of caught up with the idea that he’d once more travelled to the future. He’d heard Bruce and Tony talk about time travel before, but it had only been a theory, something they’d joked about, nothing that could actually _happen_.

“What’s the matter with you?” Tony asked, frowning slightly. “You look kinda spooked. Is it about the slime? I told you I’m perfectly fine.”

He looked around to see Tony now leaning on the other side of the island.

“I... uh...”

Tony smiled. “‘I, uh’?” he echoed, obviously teasing him. There was something about that smile—something that Steve had seen before. Certainly not with Tony, but with Sharon and even Peggy and—Tony leaned further over the island, took his face in his hands and drew him gently forward.

Steve’s eyes widened, as realization hit him. “Wha—”

But it was too late. Tony’s mouth was already on his and Steve’s whole body went rigid.

What… what was going on?

Why was Tony _kissing_ him?

He had no idea what to do about it—and Tony’s lips were already moving on his, he was _nibbling_ at his lower lip, and his tongue moved along its line in a way that brought it inside his mouth before Steve knew how to stop it.

“Mmh,” Tony hummed against Steve’s mouth—because he was still right there, _kissing_ him. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

He pecked Steve again, and Steve’s brain clearly had shut down at some point, because he could not even form a decent thought.

Tony was kissing him like it was the most normal thing in the entire world.

Like he was used to doing this every day.

He realized that Tony had let him go at some point and was now walking in the direction of the stairway. Steve only leaned heavily on the island and stared after him.

“Gotta wash this off real quick,” Tony said, staring down at his briefs as if they’d personally offended him. “That powder’s driving me crazy.”

That said, he pulled at his underwear, stepped out of it and—and threw it on top of the tank top already lying on the floor.

 _Naked_.

Tony Stark was naked, and clearly not caring one single bit that Steve was right _there_.

Steve couldn’t help staring at him. He had to admit, he hadn’t thought Tony was so… _built_. No bulk—not like himself, just strong definition; and he moved all easy and unselfconscious, as if... as if he had been naked in front of Steve a thousand times, as well.

“Jo will pick those up in a bit,” Tony said, pointing to his clothes. Then, he grinned at him wickedly. “Wanna join me for the shower?”

Steve swallowed, unable to think of an answer.

Tony shrugged, unbothered as he walked up the stairs. “Your loss.”

Even though Steve had _absolutely_ no intention of joining Tony in the shower, he drifted after him, as if hypnotized. He tried averting his gaze, but Tony’s ass was in his line of sight and Steve felt his cheeks heat as he followed him. He needed to figure out what all of this meant, and sure—the signs were pretty clear, and he guessed whatever clue he needed to find would be wherever Tony was going.

He was walking right towards his own rooms, if Steve remembered the Facility’s rooms correctly and he was just turning on the shower when Steve walked into the very large bedroom.

Tony had definitely done a bit of reconstruction work here as well. There was a new queen-sized bed, new bedding, new tables, new chairs. There were books Steve recognized as his own lying on the couch table, socks of his lying on the floor, and a jacket that was clearly his old leatherjacket hanging next to the door.

As if in a haze, Steve walked into the dressing room, opening one of the many closets warily. Those were clearly Tony’s clothes, but beside them… _his_. The drawers were the same: All of their clothes, all cozily together.

 _God_.

There was no way around it any longer. He and Tony, they were living together. They had a relationship. They were, what— _lovers?_

“Come here,” Tony called over from the shower. The bathroom door was still open and Steve could even see Tony’s naked form through the transparent shower door, turning and twisting under the stream of water. “The powder’s off and I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Steve paused, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he felt his cheeks heat. Yes, definitely lovers. Just— _wow_. He had absolutely no idea what to do now.

“I’ll...” He swallowed, and added, a bit lamely, “I’d rather wait for you here.”

He had to _think_.

This—very clearly—couldn’t be his future. There was no single way the two of them would ever get into a relationship with each other.

This was _Tony_ , after all. Tony Stark—tech prodigy, business magnate, one of the richest men in the world and constantly ranked on Forbes’ list of _The World’s Most Powerful People._ Tony also still had this on and off thing with Pepper going—and he was straight, as far as Steve knew.

And as for Steve… Well… He might not strictly be straight, but he hadn’t considered men like that, not in a very long while and never with serious intent. Not that he hadn’t ever given it the a thought, but it just… there had always been more important things to think about, and he’d always expected to at least try and date Sharon at some point.

So this—this life with Tony couldn’t possibly be his.

Because in _his_ life, Tony didn’t like him. He wasn’t Tony’s friend.

No matter how much he wanted to be.

Was this another universe, then? One of the multiverses Strange had talked about so much?

What had Bruce once said about timelines and multiverses? Before you knew what was what—whether you’ve traveled to another dimension or another time—, you had to be very careful not to mess anything up. But Steve… he’d, well… either way, he’d gone forward, not back, right? So nothing he could say would really cause any problems. At least, he hoped so. Besides, he would need help getting back. He didn’t have a clue about interdimensional travel.

Were Wanda and Strange still part of the team? What about Vision and Bruce? They were the ones he needed.

He sat down on one of the couches and called Stephen Strange’s number, but it was disconnected. Damn. He would have to ask Tony for his number. Which meant that he would have to tell him. Right. He had to start with that.

His train of thought derailed when Tony came into the living room. Thankfully, he was wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a new shirt. He dropped down on the couch right next to Steve in a way that had him lying with his head in Steve’s lap. He smiled, a real genuine smile, not the carefully guarded one Steve usually saw on his face. There was even a long dimple slashing down his cheek, his eyes lighting up. Brown eyes, vivid and adoring.

_I had no idea you could smile like that._

Steve’s breath caught when Tony reached for his hand and pressed its palm against his mouth, kissing it. His other hand brushed the material of his uniform top, pausing at the darkened star in the middle of it.

“Haven’t seen you wearing this in years,” Tony murmured. “Not since… I don’t even know. Didn’t it burn up at some point? I can’t remember.”

Inwardly, Steve winced. “Tony, I…”

“Oh, no, I do remember,” Tony exclaimed. “It was… Thanos, right? The one you wore in Wakanda? God, that’s long ago. Where did you even find it?”

While he talked, Tony breathed against the heel of Steve’s hand and rubbed his palm back and forth across the line of his jaw. Steve’s fingers curled involuntarily around it.

Tony kissed his next finger, then the next, and then—he tensed.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Where is your ring?”

Steve frowned. “My what?”

Tony suddenly let go of Steve’s hand, sitting up. He stared at him for a very long moment, as if only now taking him in fully—his face, his hair, his uniform. His face flickered over Steve’s body as if cataloguing the changes he was probably detecting just then, and Steve had to school his expression when Tony’s eyes turned to slits.

“Who are you,” he said, not even phrasing it as a question. His voice had dropped in a manner that made Steve wish he’d brought his shield upstairs.

“I’m Steve,” he said lamely.

“No, you’re not,” Tony snarled, as he stood up. “You look like Steve and you smell like Steve and you even talk like Steve. But you’re _not_ my husband!”

Steve winced. This was not the way he had meant Tony to find out.

Wait.

_“What?”_

“Your ring.” Tony raised his hand where a golden band was glimmering in the dim light. “I’ve got mine. Where’s yours?”

“You’ve got— _what?!”_ Steve couldn’t fathom it. He stood up and took a step closer, staring at the ring on Tony’s finger. And sure enough, it was a wedding band—simple and elegant, one Steve could imagine himself buying in a heartbeat. “We’re… married?”

Tony scoffed. It seemed he wanted to reach for something—a weapon, maybe—and only then realized that he didn’t have anything with him.

“For six months, yes,” he said, instead. “And you _never_ take off your ring. It’s one of the weird things you do, you always wear it, _always_. And I saw you wearing it today when we left. Your hair’s different, your gear isn’t updated and your uniform: It _did_ burn up, two years ago. So I’m gonna ask exactly one more time before I raise the alarm: Who. Are. You?”

Steve drew a shaky breath. “I’m Steve,” he said. “Just not… your Steve, I think. Half an hour ago I fought Thanos in Manhattan. I only just turned up here, but I’m… I’m Steve Rogers, I promise.”

Tony frowned, and after a long moment, his defensive posture loosened slightly. “You’re from a different dimension,” he said, exhaling a long-suffering breath as he straightened again. “Should’ve realized it sooner. You do look a little different.”

“You don’t seem too surprised.”

Tony shrugged, though he did rub a hand over his forehead as he walked across the room and then back. “Not much in this world surprises me anymore, to be honest. So, what was it: A spell? Fuck, I hate magic _so_ much.”

Steve blinked. “No, I… I got hit by one of the Infinity Stones.”

Tony stopped and raised a brow. “Which one?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said truthfully, though he remembered a green light coming for him, which would mean…

 _No_.

“We’d just defeated Thanos,” he explained. “Stephen Strange wanted to scatter the stones, but something went wrong.”

Tony hummed, his expression thoughtful. “And you’re from… 2018?”

“Yeah.”

Tony bit his lip. “I don't remember Steve dimension-hopping back then, so that’s new, but…” He sighed, obviously finishing whatever he’d had to say in his mind. After a beat, his eyes flickered back to Steve. He quirked a smile. “Sorry for… the kiss and… the stripping.” He rubbed another hand over his neck. “I guess we’re not an item where you come from. That must’ve thrown you for a loop.”

“It’s not…” Steve said. “It’s not something we do, no.”

Tony nodded. “Well, I’m gonna call Bruce. Strange would be a better option, but after the mess with Urthona, he took a time-out, so… we’ll try, but I don’t think he’ll be of help. You said Strange is already around in your time?”

“Yes, he fought at our side.”

“Good. That’s good. I’ll call in the others. We’ll do some tests, first.” At Steve’s confused stare, he added, “standard procedure. After the Skrulls, we have this rule about confirming everyone’s identity. I believe you’re you, but I’m not exactly objective.”

“Because we’re married,” Steve said, huffing as he stared first to the ceiling, then back at Tony. “How did we ever get together?”

Tony bit his lip again, thinking for a moment before he looked at Steve apologetically. “Let’s talk to Bruce first. Inter-dimensional travel is tricky business and I’d rather not fuck everything up. Better keep the details to ourselves for now, alright?”

Steve heaved a long breath, then nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“Come on, Cap,” Tony said, smiling at him—though the adoring warmth from before was definitely gone. “We’ll get you sent back in no time at all.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your very lovely comments. Can't even tell you how happy they made me. I deeply appreciate it. <3

 * * 4/29/18, 10:06 AM * *

_Tony_

 

Tony didn’t know how long he sat in his workshop, simply staring down at his own hands.

They’d arrived back at the Facility at some point, and with ‘they’, he meant Rhodey, Natasha, Barnes, Clint and Bruce, since the rest of the team was currently treated in SHIELD’s medical department.

A few of them almost hadn’t made it.

Steve… Steve hadn’t.

God, Tony had failed him. Steve had given him everything—even his life. And Tony had given him nothing. Only a resentful heart, a stony purpose and iron contempt. In his self-absorption he had never tried to make amends properly, had never tried to get over all the bitterness.

Fuck, it was just like Steve to do something like this. The guy simply couldn’t let someone else take the brunt of all the dirty work. He’d been happily diving into his death. Laying down on the wire like he’d always said he would.

Tony _hated_ him.

Of course, Captain America would go down with a last, ultimate heroic act. Saving the man who’d sent him into exile, no less—saving him with his own life.

Because Steve was… he was _dead_. Tony had seen him vanish.

And even if he wasn’t dead, he was lost to some different time— _again_ —, with no way of getting him back. Not even Strange, with all his magical power, had given them the slightest hope to undo what had happened.

Shit—Steve hadn’t even hesitated before throwing himself in front of Tony.

There was a strangled sound cutting through the silence and only after a moment, Tony realized he was sobbing.

There were no tears, no wet cheeks, just that: Dry, choking sobs leaving his lips because he didn’t know how to deal with being the reason Steve was gone.

How could he possibly stand next to his coffin?

Another sob. And another. Tony’s eyes burned from wanting to cry, but he refused any ease the tears might bring. He deserved the pain. Deserved to live with the loss and the guilt. After making sure Stark Industries helped with restoration and first aid as much as possible, he’d holed himself up here, not wanting to see anyone, much less talk to them.

He’d refused any calls, had locked down his doors, and faced the ugly truth.

Steve was dead. Because of him.

And all that was left… all he was… was an empty, hollow shell, going through the motions, not really caring about anything anymore.

“Boss,” Friday called, her voice too soft for her programming. With each day, she became a bit more like Jarvis, and Tony wondered what that said about him—that his AIs were able to show more compassion than he ever had.

He shook his head. “Not now.”

“Boss, Miss Romanoff is asking for you to come upstairs.”

“Tell her I’m busy.”

“Boss, she—”

“I said I’m _busy!”_

Friday fell silent at that, thankfully—and Tony stood up, walking over to where DUM-E was currently standing. He was still offline, had been ever since Tony’d sold Avengers Tower. Tony let a hand brush over the claw, petting it. With a sigh, he leaned against the robot, closing his eyes.

Somehow, Friday’s silence sounded very judgmental.

“What does she want?” he conceded on a sigh.

“It seems, there has been an unexpected visitor,” Friday replied at once. “The whole team has assembled.”

“A… visitor. Who is it?”

“Miss Romanoff was very insistent that you have to see for yourself.”

“Of course she was,” Tony said, annoyed that Natasha knew him so well—know that one of his greatest weaknesses had always been curiosity.

 

* * 4/29/18, 10:25 AM * *

_Tony_

 

When Tony arrived at the common floor, Rhodey and Barnes were standing nose to nose, arguing loudly.

Considering their mutual history, it shouldn’t be a big surprise. However, when it had become clear that the team would assemble again, Tony had asked Rhodey to simply let it rest—to not say anything to Barnes about murdering his parents, to simply treat him like you would treat a business colleague. Polite, respectful—indifferent.

Right now, though, they were basically spitting into each other’s faces.

“Give him some space!” Barnes snapped.

“Oh. Yes, I’m sure that’ll clear everything up,” Rhodey retorted.

“Your sarcasm accomplishes nothing!”

“It’s sort of an end to itself,” Rhodey all but snarled. “He shouldn’t be here, you know that. It’s obviously a ruse!”

“Does he look like he’ll attack us?!”

At that, Tony finally took a step into the room, then another. True to Friday’s words, every single one of the remaining team was around—at least those who were still residing on Earth, and not currently in medical.

Tony looked around wildly. He was about to ask what the hell was going on, then stopped when he got his answer in form of a familiar face.

That… that wasn’t possible.

Time froze in that way Tony always suspected was too real for a hallucination and yet not real enough, despite the craziness his world embellished on a regular basis. But: There he was. _Steve_ —he was… he was just sitting there. On the couch. His shield leaning right next to his leg.

With Natasha and Clint standing in front of him, and Bruce crouching at his side. Bruce… who had a stethoscope in his hands, examining Steve with a concentrated look, because apparently Steve was not dead and needed examining.

There were the standard oddities of his life, and then there was… this.

_Thank God,_ was the first thought going through Tony’s head and he took a long, dumbfound moment to just be grateful for once, because this time, he really thought he’d lost the man for good.

He took a deep breath, schooling his expression as he cleared his throat. “Well," he said. “That’s a… surprise.”

Steve’s head whipped up. His gaze instantly focused on him and he looked relieved in a way Tony didn’t know what to make of. And—Tony might be hallucinating—his expression sort of… lit up when he saw him.

“Tony,” he breathed and _nope_ , there was no denying the big smile appearing on his lips. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You… are?” Tony asked, then back-paddled. “I mean, yeah, it’s good to see you, too, Cap. We thought we’d lost you.”

That seemed to confuse Steve, if the frown on his face was any indication.

Tony took a long, hard look at him, then. He looked mostly like he’d looked when he’d vanished right in front of him, only a few hours ago. And yet, he looked different, too. His hair—the uniform—the expression on his face when regarding Tony.

Tony’s gaze flickered to the others, who looked equally unsettled. At least he didn’t seem to be the only one picking up vibes that something was off kilter. “Do we know where he was?” Tony asked.

“We’re not sure yet,” Bruce said. “He only got here. We already called Strange, he’s on his way.”

Steve’s gaze hadn’t left Tony, but he was frowning now. “I landed somewhere in Lower Manhattan. I… walked here.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Bruce asked him.

“The battle.”

“That’s good,” Bruce said with a smile. “So you remember Thanos.”

Steve paused. “Uh, yes,” he said slowly. “I remember Thanos just fine, but… I meant the battle in which we fought that sentient Slime-Monster.”

Tony sighed when a bad feeling rose inside his guts. “And when… was that?”

“An hour ago, I think,” Steve said. He rubbed a hand over his neck, then sighed, as if realizing something. “What year is it… here?”

There was a pause.

“2018,” Bruce said, very slowly.

Steve nodded, as if the information didn’t surprise him much. “Right. I think it’s obvious that I’m not the Steve of your time. I’m from 2022.”

“Great Marty McFly,” Clint breathed and Tony rolled his eyes, though he secretly shared the sentiment.

Of course Steve wouldn’t just come back from his trip—he’d switch places with his future self.

That also explained the small differences. Now that Tony knew what he was looking for, it was painstakingly clear. Steve’s hair wasn’t quite the same, and his whole battle gear was easily a few steps ahead of their time.

“Or… maybe this is a different dimension?” Steve asked, looking around a little helplessly.

“Not likely,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “Steve— _our Steve_ —got hit by the Time Stone. I mean, Strange is still analyzing what happened, but—”

“It was the Time Stone,” a voice said and Tony startled when he realized the Sorcerer Supreme was already standing right next to him.

“I really wish you’d stop doing that,” Tony snapped.

Strange just cast him a smile, then walked over to Steve. “You’re from 2022, you said?”

“Yes,” Steve confirmed, frowning. “So… this is really my past?”

“There are alternate futures, of course,” Strange said as he sat down across from Steve, “so it’s not always possible to travel to the same one. The Time Stone, however—its power is based on _one_ timeline and its many possibilities. So while it’s not exactly possible to travel to one’s true past, because you’re already affecting it as we speak, this is indeed your own timeline.”

Clint nodded, as if all of that was absolutely self-explanatory.

“You’re serious?” Natasha asked Strange. “He’s from the future? _Our_ future?”

Strange nodded. “Yes.”

Steve was staring at his own hands, then at his surroundings, as if only now, he realized how different everything looked. Well… it _had_ to look different, didn’t it? Immediately, Tony wondered how his future looked like. 2022 sounded so far away, and yet… it were only four little years.

How much could possibly change in four years?

At least, all of them still seemed to be alive—so that was something.

“When you said I’m already affecting my own past, then you mean that…” Steve started, glancing at Strange with a worried look.

“You might affect your own time, yes. The act of time travel always produces a juncture diverging a new alternate timeline. You can’t remember travelling to the future, can you?”

Steve shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “I can’t.”

“We have to find out what all of this means,” Strange said, glancing at Bruce and Tony briefly. “Best case scenario: You’ll get back to your timeline with no immediate changes whatsoever, but having two sets of memories.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his neck—a gesture Tony had often seen Steve do. Which was strangely comforting. “To be honest, this is not the first time something like this has happened to one of our team and… I guess it means that your Steve probably is in 2022 where I should be.”

“So. Can we… undo it?” Rhodey asked, looking at Strange. “Switch them back?”

“That’d be great,” Steve said. “Not to be rude, but… I really want to go home.”

Natasha looked at him sympathetically. “I can understand. It must be horrible to be torn away from your team.”

“We’re his team,” Barnes said, frowning.

“You… are,” Steve said. “It’s just…”

“…not the same team,” Tony finished for him. “We’ll do what we can. I promise.”

Steve looked back at him. And there—there was that warm smile again. Steve was looking at Tony like it was a big relief he was here—as if looking at Tony was somehow a big reassurance. “Thank you, Tony,” he said.

“I should be able to locate your past self within a few days,” Strange said. “Bringing you both to your respective sides, however… I’m not sure yet. Am I around in your time? It’d be easier if I could contact myself for help.”

Steve wanted to answer, then pressed his mouth closed in a tight line. After a moment of contemplation, he said, “I’m not… sure I should tell you anything. As you said, I could mess up my timeline, couldn’t I? I know time travel is tricky business. I don’t want to alter my past in a way that could make our future vanish. I… I won’t risk that.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, taking in the hardened features on Steve’s face. Whatever his future was like… it seemed he was adamant on keeping it.

Which was good, right? It meant they had a life worth keeping.

Or: At least Steve had.

“You’re right,” Strange confirmed. “You shouldn’t give us any more indicators than strictly necessary. But I think it’s safe to tell me if I’ll be able to contact myself. I don’t want any more details.”

“You’re around,” Steve told him after another long beat. “Just not with us. You took a timeout from superheroing.”

Strange hummed, nodded. “Good. It’s worth a try.” He looked around as he stood up. “I’ll contact you once I have any news.”

And with that, he vanished.

There was a beat of silence. Followed by awkward glances.

“So, Steve,” Clint said as he flopped down on the couch, “tell us what it’s like to live in 2022?”

Steve cast a thoughtful glance at him, and said nothing.

“Didn’t you listen? He can’t tell us anything,” Bruce said. “This is strictly ‘Need to know’ from here on out.”

“Does that include lottery numbers?” Clint asked on a grin.

“You don’t need lottery numbers,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “You’re on the Avengers’ payroll.”

Clint raised a brow as he looked at Tony. “You put me back on the team?”

Tony snorted, raising his hands. “Apparently? How would I know?”

“Well, about time!” Clint said, looking smug.

“Guys. We’ve got more important things to do right now,” Bruce said, clasping a hand on Clint’s shoulder.

“I just hope our Steve’s all right wherever he is in the future,” Barnes said from his place at the window.

“Oh, he’ll be alright. Tony will—” Steve stopped, glancing at Tony briefly, then broke off. “I mean… I’m sure the team will treat him well,” he amended lamely.

Tony frowned and even Barnes gave Steve an odd look, but said nothing.

Steve looked away, then cleared his throat. “You don’t need me right now, do you? I’d… I’d like to change out of my uniform. I didn’t get in contact with the slime, but… can I take a shower somewhere? And grab some clothes?”

“Sure,” Tony said. “Your room’s still the same. It hasn’t changed since you left.”

_In 2016,_ Tony didn’t say, but then again—this still was Steve. So he’d remember just fine.

“Perfect, thank you,” Steve said, before he moved towards the stairway.

Once he was out of sight, all of them stared at each other, for once at a complete loss at what to do.

 

* * 4/29/18, 11:33 AM * *

_Tony_

 

Tony stayed with the others for a while longer, listening to their excited babbling and strategizing, before he excused himself.

He was… he was glad to have Steve back, of course he was. Even if he didn’t _really_ have him back, not yet. But having Steve’s future self here was the proof that his Steve was still alive, right?

Not _his_ Steve, but… their Steve.

He was alive, somewhere, and they’d get him back, and then, maybe, they could start forming the friendship their future selves seemed to have, no matter how strange the thought was.

When he walked into his room, however, Tony stopped, raising a brow.

There was Steve, standing in the middle of his bedroom. He was still in his uniform, meaning he hadn’t even been to his own room yet.

He was holding something in his hands, Tony realized, squinting to get a better look.

Was that one of his _shirts?_

“Uh…” Tony prompted. “Hello?”

Steve startled hard, letting the shirt fall back down on the backrest of the couch. He turned. “Tony, I… Sorry,” he said, wincing as his cheeks flushed. “I guess I forgot that I don’t—I mean…” He bit his lip, stopping himself as he looked at the ceiling. “I just forgot where my room is. Over the time we have… switched rooms a few times, so… Could you give me directions?”

_Ah_ , Tony thought—that explained things. Most things. Not the shirt, though. “You could’ve just asked Friday,” he suggested.

“Friday?” Steve echoed, then smiled a little as if remembering something. “Right. Of course. I wasn’t thinking, so… Sorry. And thank you.”

“Sure,” Tony said, wanting to return the smile, but Steve was already trying not to look at him again and instead stared off into the distance.

Yeah, there definitely was something off about him, Tony thought. There was a kind of reservation to him that Tony couldn’t understand. Back in the living room, he’d openly smiled at him—looking as if Tony’s presence was something he truly _valued_. But now—here—alone with Tony, he sported a tilt of his head, a half-lidded, inward-turned gaze, and an overall unhappy expression.

“We still don’t get along, huh?” Tony asked.

Steve frowned. “What?”

“You… and me. I thought, when we met earlier, that—I don’t know, that we got over what happened. That we became friends. But you’re from the future, and… you can’t even look at me. Even four years later.”

It was more disappointing than Tony would ever openly admit.

Steve looked taken aback, but he finally met Tony’s gaze. “No. We get along fine,” he said, sounding very serious. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying not to mess anything up by saying something wrong. Or looking at someone the wrong way.”

Tony hummed. “So… we’re on the same team again?”

Steve took a deep breath, clearly weighing very carefully what he could say and what he couldn’t. “I think it’s safe to say that we get along really well these days.”

Tony nodded, more relieved than he thought he would be. When had he become so dependent on what Steve Rogers thought of him? Since when did he care so much about his opinion?

Tony regarded Steve more carefully, and it was then, that he noticed it. Steve did something weird with his left hand—he was nervously twirling a ring on his fourth finger, rotating it slowly with his thumb over and over again.

It was… it was a wedding ring.

Steve was _married_.

Tony swallowed, and there was a dark feeling settling in his stomach. Of course, it shouldn’t be surprising. Steve was a good catch. He was a superhero, famous, really good-looking, a nice person with good morals and a weirdly dry sense of humor that had roused a startled laugh from Tony more often than he cared to admit. Steve was a good guy… why should he stay single forever? A man like Steve… despite claiming that it wasn’t a life he wanted anymore, would of course at one point find a nice girl and settle down with her.

No wonder he wanted to get back to his own time as soon as possible.

Well, good for him, Tony thought and he hated himself a little for that surge of envy rising inside of him. Just because he and Pepper had never managed to make their relationship last, he shouldn’t be petty now. Because… despite everything, Steve deserved to be happy.

“Congratulations,” he said, nodding at the ring.

Steve followed his line of sight, then sighed. “Right. Thanks.”

“I’m glad you found someone,” Tony forced himself to say. “You earned some happiness. After everything that happened. And everything that probably will happen in the next years.”

Something strangely warm settled in Steve’s gaze. “I… I can’t say too much, Tony, but… you’re happy, too, okay? Your future… I’d like to think it’s something to look forward to.”

_Hard to imagine_ , Tony couldn’t help but think, but bit back those words. Steve clearly believed that. And Tony had always been good at acting like everything was perfectly fine.

He’d never cared much about his own future, too busy shaping the whole world’s instead. But now, here, with a future version of Steve standing right in front of him… he couldn’t help but wonder.

His future was as unreachable as it had ever been.

But much more mysterious.

 

* * 6/13/22, 6:44 AM * *

_Steve_

 

Steve hit the punching bag hard. He didn’t know how long he’d been going, but the sun was already up, and he was so tired that the gym benches were starting to look like the queen-size bed in Tony’s room.

In their room— _their shared bedroom_. Because Tony and him were going to get _married_.

Last night, Reed Richards and Bruce had both confirmed that he’d been hit by the Time Gem. The traces the Infinity Stone had left on him were unmistakable—apparently. He’d been hit by the Stone’s power and flung through time, catapulting him here.

Which meant that, yes, this was his future.

Not some different dimension. Not an alternate timeline, no. This, here, was his own world, just four little years later.

Normally, Steve was a man who appreciated good humor, but there was nothing in that particular revelation which tickled his mirth. He wasn’t laughing and he wasn’t screaming. He was… well, he was at a complete and utter loss.

Here, Tony was his _husband_ , he kept thinking on repeat. And it wasn’t some multiverse versions of them, some counterpart who’d taken a completely different path in life… no. This was the same Tony Stark he’d met in 2012, the same Tony he’d argued with over Ultron, and Sokovia and multiple times in between. It was the same Tony he’d fought in Siberia, the same Tony he hadn’t talked to in two years.

And somehow, this Tony still had decided that uniting his life with Steve’s was a really good idea.

Steve had believed they’d never even become friends again, but they _had_ —and then, and then _this?_

Another punch. And one more. With no mind to go up to his newly assigned guest room, he went on punching. He just went at it aimlessly, remembering a time when the scariest thing in his life had been Red Skull.

God, he was so tired. Too tired to make any plans, or to figure a way out of this mess.

Only when Jocasta gently reminded him that he’d just torn through the last available bag, he dropped his hands and just… stopped. He shuffled over to the showers and let the scalding hot water fall down on him.

Why did things like these always happen to him? Waking up in the future, seventy years later, knowing that each and every person he’d known was dead or would be very soon. And now: 2022.

What if he never got back? What if the lost those four years as well?

When he’d finished his shower, Steve walked up to the common floor. On his way to the kitchen, he glanced at the various photographs that filled almost every surface and wall. When he came across one of the bigger ones, he stopped.

There it was, plain as day: their wedding picture. There was Steve, and Tony—wearing matching tuxes—, and next to them: Bucky and Rhodey as their best men.

Steve groaned and rubbed his face. That was… a lot to deal with.

They looked so _happy_. So genuinely happy, and so very much in love.

It was strange to see them like this. Not that Tony wasn’t an attractive guy, but… he had never been an option, had he? And even if that changed at some point… it was just completely unfathomable how two people who were so different could ever want to spend the rest of their days together.

“You look like you’re gonna faint,” someone said, and Steve startled. He turned around and saw Tony leaning against the doorframe.

Saw his _husband_ leaning against the doorframe.

Was his name even still Tony Stark? Or was he Tony Rogers now?

Yeah, he sort of _felt_ like fainting, too.

“Sorry, it’s…”

“…a lot to deal with, I know,” Tony said, his voice sympathetic. “If I’d realized sooner who you were, I wouldn’t have told you. It’s not something you should know.”

He stepped a little closer to Steve, pausing a moment before he awkwardly put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, petting him twice before stepping back again to a respectable distance. “We’ll do everything we can to get you back as soon as possible. I promise.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, smiling a bit. He glanced back at the photograph. “And you said we got married six months ago?”

That’d be three and a half years from his own time.

Tony was quiet for a moment, probably weighing his words carefully. And probably also realizing that Steve already knew all there was to know. There was simply no reason to keep secrets from him.

Tony seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“Yeah, we did,” he confirmed. “The wedding was a mess, to be honest, but… still the happiest day of my life.”

Steve nodded, his nerves dancing dangerously near the end of anything resembling control.

“I know this must be weird to you,” Tony added, voice soft.

“It sort of is,” Steve agreed.

Tony tried to meet his gaze, and when he did, he cast him a small smile. “As you can imagine, we get along better at some point.”

Steve snorted before he could help himself. “I hope so. Otherwise this relationship is not something I look forward to.”

Now, Tony grinned, brushing a hand through his hair. “I… wish there was something more tangible that I could give you, but… All I can say is: Our lives are about as wonky as they’ve ever been, but… it’s better since we got together. We make sense, much more than you might think.”

Steve hummed, surprised that he could almost imagine it to be true. The idea of having Tony at his side throughout it all was… strangely comforting.

Steve’s lips drew upward in a tender smile. “It’s… still about the weirdest thing that ever happened to me, and that’s saying something. You and I… well, I don’t have to tell you we have a difficult past.”

“Yeah, no, I kind of remember,” Tony said with another one of his wistful smiles.

“It’s just… a little hard to believe we got to a point where we exchanged vows. I mean no offense, but you made me want to punch my head through a wall repeatedly, you constantly have me on my toes and I never yelled at someone more than I yelled at you, so…”

At that, Tony exhaled a startled laugh, then broadly grinned at Steve. “That… actually sounded a lot like the vow you said at our wedding.”

Steve frowned. “Very funny.”

“It’s true.” Tony shrugged. “I never said we suddenly became different people. We just… learned to actually listen to each other. That was the hard part, because once we’d managed _that_ , falling in love was so easy we barely noticed it happening.”

Steve looked at him dumbly and something strong took a hold of his throat. _Falling in love._ “Tony…”

“Come on,” Tony called, pointing towards the elevator. “Bruce had an idea. And the others are already waiting. Let’s get to work, Cap.”

_Cap_.

Tony had started calling him that again, as if to differentiate between him and his own Steve, to keep that distance between them. Steve didn’t know about Tony, but he certainly _needed_ that distance.

Ever since that kiss… he was so aware of Tony that if he closed his eyes even for a second, he would find himself remembering the taste of his mouth, the feeling of his lips, his beard scratching lightly against his skin… And that was bad.

Very very bad.

Or it wasn’t—not for this time’s Steve. _This Steve_ seemed to be perfectly happy with the way things were. And the heavens didn’t come crashing down because he and Tony were together. It wasn’t wrong for this version of Steve.

And Steve—he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like.

To love someone like that.

And to be loved so much in return.

 

* * 6/13/22, 2:58 PM * *

_Steve_

 

_I’ll never get used to this,_ Steve thought as he watched how Tony and Bucky talked to each other.

They were sitting in the common room, around the large table where they’d once discussed the Sokovia Accords. Tony and Bucky were sitting close, some kind of floor plan spread out in front of them.

And they talked and behaved and overall seemed like they were best buddies.

Anyway. The rest of the team had taken him coming from another time completely in stride. Bucky and Natasha had cancelled their weekend plans, and the other members of the Avengers had been informed as well, so only a few hours later, Bruce, Sam and Clint had joined them at the Compound.

It was infinitely comforting that his team was still mostly the same. They bickered, they joked, they argued. But no one was really all that surprised out about his time travel. All of them just mundanely settled down and tried to find a way to get their own Steve back.

Like a team would do. Like _friends_ would do.

By now, Steve had learned to stop asking questions. He knew it might disturb the timeline, so he accepted that all of them, Tony included, were trying to be as tight-lipped as they could.

“Can you at least tell me about your plan?” Steve asked.

Natasha took a deep breath, and nodded. “We managed to contact the Strange from your time.”

“Sadly, he doesn’t know much about interdimensional travel, yet,” Tony added. “He doesn’t know much about anything.”

“Tony…” Bruce said, though he was smiling.

“I’m just saying. It would be much easier if it was _our_ Strange. This one is weirdly incompetent.”

“What Tony wants to say,” Bucky said, ignoring the eye-roll Tony cast him at that. “is that we got good news and bad. Which would you like to hear first?”

“The good,” Steve said.

“Good news is that we found a way to get you back.”

“A shitty one because we don’t have Strange,” Tony added in the driest of voices.

Natasha petted Steve’s shoulder with a reassuring hand. “Don’t listen to him. It’s not _that_ shitty.”

“Meeting Doom before they actually have to is pretty shitty if you ask me,” Tony said.

“He’s right about that one,” Bucky agreed, because Bucky was Tony’s _friend_ now.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “Can anyone _actually_ tell me about the plan?”

Tony leaned forward, rotating the floor plan until it was facing towards Steve. “There’s a machine called ‘Null Time Sequencer’. We found it back in 2020, in a castle in Latveria.” He tapped on the map. “A man called Doctor Doom retrieved them during one of his travels. It’s… it’s basically a time machine.”

“A time machine,” Steve echoed, huffing. “Right.”

Tony smiled as if reading Steve’s mind. “Well. It’s a bit more complicated, of course, but the important information here is: It can bring you back. And once you go back, _my_ Steve will come back as well.”

_My Steve._ No, Steve thought, he definitely still hadn’t gotten used to this. And yet… he had to admit, he sort of liked the sound of it. To be anyone’s ‘my’.

“And you want us to go there and obtain the… thing?”

“Null Time Sequencer, yes. And no—we want _your_ team to go there and obtain it.”

Steve blinked. _“My_ team? Why?”

“We talked to Reed Richards, and he is sure that Doom had already gathered the Sequencer back in 2018.”

“But why don’t you just use the Sequencer on me? Send _me_ back.”

“Yeah, we would if we could,” Tony said. “But the TVA confiscated one, and Doom destroyed the other before it could be discovered. There’s actively no way we can get our hands on a Sequencer here. They’re already gone.”

Ah, Steve nodded, then nodded some more. He didn’t feel too good about sending his team into situation they might not be ready for yet—after just fighting Thanos, but if there truly was no other choice…

“What’s a… TVA?” he asked.

“Time Variance Authority,” Tony explained, then sighed. He glanced at Bruce. “You really think that’s our only choice? Aren’t we messing things up pretty badly by sending them to Doom before their time?”

“If we can’t find Stephen—I don’t see a different way. We’ll just have to figure out a plan to bring the Sequencer back before Doom even notices.”

Tony nodded, looking back at Steve. “Yeah, so that’s our only idea. I’m going to send a message to my past self. Then your people will have to find the Sequencer before it was destroyed. They’ll use it on our Steve, and the both of you switch places.”

That sounded… very easy. _Too_ easy, probably, but Steve was relieved to know they were being optimistic.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “And who’s this… ‘Doctor Doom’?”

All of them smiled. Bucky looked at Tony as he laughed. “Do you remember the time when we didn’t know who Doom was?”

“Best time of my life,” Tony said sighing wistfully, which would apparently be the only answer Steve was going to get. “Alright. I’m gonna send myself a little message.”

“Admit it, you always wanted to do that,” Bucky said, to which Tony only answered with a toothy grin.

He reached for one of his tablets, typing on the screen so fast Steve had trouble following. It seemed he was giving Jocasta instructions, then dated them back four years ago. When he was done with that, he photographed the floor plan, then highlighted an area on the lowest floor of the castle.

“Are you sure your Steve is even with them right now?” Steve asked. “What if he never got in contact with my team?”

“If he’s in 2018, which I have to believe he is, he’ll be there,” Tony said. “It’s not our first rodeo with time travel and Steve and I… we have an understanding about these kinds of things. We go and search for each other, no matter what. So he’ll know where to get help.”

_And that was with his future husband,_ he didn’t say, but Steve knew that was what he was thinking.

Steve leaned back, and nodded. Tony cast him a smile and for a moment it seemed as if he wanted to reach out for him, take his hand, maybe. There was a fluttery feeling in Steve’s stomach at the thought, but at the last moment, Tony decided against it, coiling his hand into a fist instead.

It was much more disappointing than Steve thought it would be.

In the next few hours, Steve watched as Tony put the plan into action, the rest of the team simply trusting him to do the right thing. They all worked together like a well-oiled machine, never once questioning each other’s intentions, never once doubting they could do it.

Something in Steve’s heart warmed at the idea, and made him think back on their own scattered team with sorrow.

And it made him wonder… What would Tony—back in 2018—think if he found out about them? About their marriage? He’d be just as shocked as Steve had been, sure, but apart from that… Steve had no idea whatsoever how Tony would react.

Laugh, lash out at him, or hide somewhere, most likely.

Or he’d just carve Steve out of his life, never to be seen again.

After all, Tony wouldn’t have any chance to slowly get used to the idea, to maybe develop those feelings in his own time. He would feel forced, and if there was one thing that would drive Tony Stark away, it was being pushed into a situation he didn’t want to be in.

And suddenly, the idea of going back and facing him, talking to him and lay his heart open, seemed like the most impossible thing.

What if this was not his future after all? At least—not anymore.

What if, by coming here, he’d destroyed it all?


	3. Chapter 3

 * * 5/2/18, 1:02 AM * *

_Tony_

 

Tony stared at the message on the screen. He’d been staring at it for the better part of the night.

It had coordinates, and a floor plan of some castle in _Latveria_.

Below, there was a blueprint of something that looked a lot like a time machine, and even further below—a note:

_Tony,_

_this is a blueprint for a machine called Null Time Sequencer. It’s not my design, but you know what it is. Yes, someone managed to build it before you did, just get over it. The Sequencer is the solution to our mutual super-soldier-problem. So here’s the plan and don’t even bother trying to come up with a different one, we checked and we’re four years the wiser, and this is your way to go: Retrieve the Sequencer from Latveria, do it without anyone seeing you, add these parameters, and make sure Steve is the only one in close contact. We’ll be awaiting transmission on 5/7/18, 9:00 PM EST._

It was a message. From the future. From his _own future self._

Tony sighed as his eyes flew over the last line.

_PS: Do me a favor and tell our Steve to stay safe. We all miss him. –TS_

‘We all miss him.’

Tony’s eyes scanned those words over and over again, realizing that it really had to be true then. In four years, he and Steve had at last learned to work together, live together, spend time together. And they had really become friends again?

Tony didn’t know why he was so surprised. Steve had said as much, and of course, Tony had always hoped it was still a possibility. He had tried not to, but the hope had stayed with him, throughout the Accords, throughout Siberia and all of the months after.

And that he cared for Steve—that his future self, four years from now would still care about Steve—wasn’t much of a surprise either.

Of course he cared about Steve.

Too much. _Far too much,_ sometimes.

He’d cared for him when they’d just formed a team, and when they’d argued, and when they’d ultimately broken apart. He’d cared for Steve _always_ , in ways that had sometimes scared him, because…

…because it was one thing he could never let happen.

Tony groaned, staring at the screen some more.

Alright, his future self had given him a mission. An easy enough mission, from the sound of it. Retrieve a highly experimental time machine from some dark looming castle in the middle of nowhere, without the owner of said dark looming castle noticing, and switch both Steves back.

Right.

It was all a bit crazy, but once they’d found this Sequencer, everything could finally go back to normal. Steve would leave, and Tony…

…and Tony could keep pretending he wasn’t falling apart without him.

 

* * 4/7/18, 8:57 AM * *

_Tony_

 

During the next couple of days, Tony spent most of his time in the workshop, discussing time travel and its risks with Bruce and Stephen Strange.

Basically, they tried to come up with a plan that _didn’t_ involve breaking into a castle and thus breaking about twenty international laws. It was about the last thing they needed right now. After they’d defeated Thanos, they had regained some of the respect they’d lost during the Sokovia fiasco. And yet—one wrong move and they’d be back to square one. And really, Tony couldn’t go through that again.

Still. At the end of the day, he had to admit his future self was right: It seemed to be the only way to go, because without the Time Stone, and without a few years at hand to work on building a machine by themselves, breaking into Latveria truly was their only choice.

Tony asked Natasha to politely inform Steve of their plan. He hadn’t seen him in person ever since their first meeting—he wasn’t strictly avoiding him, he just didn’t like the idea of spending too much time with this future version of Steve. A Steve Rogers who knew so much more about all of them—more about _Tony_.

Yeah, alright, he was kinda avoiding him.

“Tony?” a voice said and Tony came awake with lightning swiftness.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch in his workshop, it seemed, feeling more exhausted than he’d felt in years.

He sat up with a jerk, and blinked when he registered who was standing in front of him.

Not only was it Steve—but also a very grumpy Steve, with a deep frown on his forehead.

Well that, at least, rang somewhat familiar.

“Steve? What’s wrong?” Tony murmured, rubbing his eyes.

Steve kneeled down at the foot of the couch and stared him down. “Natasha said you’ll be leaving for Latveria in about an hour. And she told me you said I wasn’t allowed to come with you.”

Tony nodded, raising himself to a sitting position. “And?”

Steve frowned some more. “‘And’? Why would you—I’ve fought Doom before! I’ve retrieved the machine before. Why would you possibly want me to stay behind?”

“We haven’t worked with you, yet,” Tony said. “Not with… this version of you, anyway.”

Steve blinked. “So… What, you don’t trust me?”

Tony just looked at him pointedly. “I don’t exactly have much of a reason to trust you right now, no matter how great you claim we get along in your time.”

Steve sighed. “I’m not ‘claiming’ anything. And… no matter how much you trust me—Let me help. It’ll be safer for you if you take me with you.”

“Are we pretending you care?”

Steve looked skyward and counted to ten, took a deep breath, exhaled. Then, he leaned forward and enunciated clearly: “You know what? I completely forgot what a pain in the ass you can be.”

Tony paused and raised a brow.

Steve sighed again, clearly trying to reign himself in. “This is a mission. I want you to be as safe as you can, because no matter what you think—you are important to me.”

Tony hugged himself and studied Steve’s profile. He almost looked exactly like his own Steve had, only his hair was a bit longer… and there was a light scruff on his cheeks. He looked somehow rougher than before. Tony turned his gaze straight ahead and, for just a minute, reveled in being with Steve, verbally sparring with him again, having him near again.

Even after all these months, he was still attuned to his presence. He tried to pretend that the way Steve—before he’d realized that he’d traveled through time—had been smiling at him with eyes full of warmth, hadn’t meant anything. But the scene kept replaying in his head and a lump rose in his throat.

Tony shivered, then rubbed a hand over his face. “So you really want to tell me that it’s all apples and sunshine in your time? We're best friends now? Forgive me, but… I don’t really believe you. We never learned to get along. Why should we now?”

“Things change. People do, too.”

“And yet, I feel like you’re keeping something from me.”

“That’s the whole point. I can’t tell you anything.”

Tony stood up at last and walked to the small closet in his workshop. He fetched a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, then turned around, searching for his watch. He _always_ lost the damn thing down here and—

“Here,” Steve said. When Tony looked up, he saw Steve walking to his desk, reaching under the surface and pulling the watch out of a small drawer, as if he’d done so a million times.

Huh.

“I—thanks?” Tony said, frowning. He walked over and took the watch from Steve, pulling it on.

Steve took a low breath as he regarded Tony. “It’s… most definitely not all apples and sunshine with us. We have arguments, we have really bad days—or really bad weeks. You and I, we still disagree a lot about a lot of things, but we— _all of us_ —we learned to actually make an effort to talk things through.”

Tony hummed, still skeptical. “Good for us.”

Steve quirked a grin. “You’ll get there one day.”

“You keep saying that,” Tony said, then pressed a few buttons on his watch, checking everyone’s status. Most of the team was mostly ready to go. So he walked over to the elevator and pressed the button. With Steve at his side, he went down to the armory, then started to dress himself for the mission.

Steve stepped up to him, so close that Tony couldn’t help but take a step back. “Let me come with you, Tony. Please.”

It was the ‘please’ that made him pause. Steve said it like it was something intimate, a soft-spoken word that gained a whole new meaning when he was saying it to Tony.

“What if something happens to you?” Tony asked, irritated. “What if you die? Our Steve won’t ever be able to get back here.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Steve asked, slightly amused. “That I get hurt?”

Tony felt heat rising to his cheeks and willed himself to calm down. He _hated_ this version of Steve—for knowing so much, and for being able to get under his skin like that.

Was it possible that he knew about… about Tony’s infatuation with him? Had he figured it out at some point?

“It’s a reasonable worry,” he defended himself, trying not to meet Steve’s gaze too often. “If I understood myself correctly, which of course I did, the switch-back only works because you have the same DNA. Our Steve doesn’t have the Time Sequencer in your time, so he relies on you being sent back. If something happens to you here, he’s stuck.”

“Nothing will happen,” Steve said. “And I’ll go with you, end of discussion. I’m still your team leader, after all.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he walked towards Mark XLVIII. “I think you forgot about the fact that our team split up. I don’t care if you’re all one happy family in 2022, _we_ aren’t. And you won’t even make it into the Quinjet if I don’t let you. This is still 2018 and your codes don’t work here. And I won’t change that.”

Steve smiled far too pleasantly. “You won’t have to,” he said, “because I can always override the codes by putting in the main code.”

Tony stopped in his tracks and stared at him.

That was impossible.

“You’re bluffing.”

The main code was something only he knew. Not Pepper, not Rhodey, not _anyone_. This was something he wouldn’t be telling anybody.

“It’s DUM-E’s first server number,” Steve said, smiling knowingly. “Plus Edwin Jarvis’ birthdate.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony exhaled, truly baffled. “I would’ve _never_ … _How?”_

“As I said: You trust me,” Steve said, shrugging. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“But… that’s _impossible_.” No matter how much he’d trust Steve in the future, no matter if they had somehow become the bestest of best friends—there was absolutely no reason to give Steve access to _everything Tony owned_.

With the main code—Steve could override Iron Man. He could shut down Friday. He could destroy every bit of tech Tony had ever created.

“Obviously it’s not,” Steve said, unaware of Tony’s inner freak-out. “Come on, we need to go. I’ve done enough messing up my future by now.”

“Yeah, because your future is so bright and shiny,” Tony mumbled, though there was a hint of a question in there.

“Exactly. And I’m not taking chances with it.” Steve straightened and started for the Quinjet.

Tony took a moment to enjoy the sight of him walking away before he let Mark XLVIII materialize around his wrists and chest. Then, he followed, entering the Quinjet just behind Steve.

The others were already sitting around, waiting. Barnes cast them a suspicious look, the others tried to avoid looking at them at all.

Steve walked right into the cockpit, sitting down in the co-pilot seat, looking right at home. He turned on the flight system and typed in Tony’s personal password as if he did it each and every time they flew together—which they’d never done before. Then, to top it all off, he started Tony’s music playlist and activated the shades, like Tony always did whenever he piloted the Quinjet.

“You can fly to Latveria,” Steve suggested. “I’ll take the flight back.”

Tony blinked at him as walked closer. “Pardon?”

“We can share the flight-time. You’re always jittery after battle.” Steve held out the pilot’s headset and waited. When Tony just kept staring at him, he let it drop to his side. “Or not.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you have a problem with me flying?”

“I don’t. I just…” Tony sighed and trailed off. “Never mind,” he said, sitting down next to Steve.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t believe the nerve of that guy. The way he’d just expected him to do what he asked of him, like it was perfectly normal… like he was _used_ to not having to ask.

Like they had suddenly found the perfect way to coexist and Tony just didn’t remember it.

Still. Why had he shared all this information with Steve? Were they really _that_ close? Close enough that Steve had somehow become the most important person in Tony’s life?

No.

It… it just wasn’t _possible_. And he hadn’t seen enough evidence to bother freaking out, no matter how much the little things slowly started to add up.

He was doing the math wrong. _Had_ to be.

It was impossible, even by his standards. No way he would…

No way he would actually get _that_ close to Steve.

Well, yeah, okay, he would. But only once, just to see what it was like.

But Steve? He was married, wasn’t he? And Steve would never cheat on his wife—and why should he want Tony? A man? A man like _him?_ Straight or not, Steve had never so much as cast him a lingering glance. They had communication issues that killed all communication issues and…

And Tony was too old for him anyway.

Right?

Right.

Fuck, he wanted a drink. But he hadn’t had a drink since Pepper had left for good, and… He didn’t _need_ a drink. No matter what Steve’s story was.

As Tony started the Quinjet, he blew out a sigh and dragged a hand through his hair, marveling at the surreal nature of this entire situation.

It had to be some sort of misinterpretation—that was all.

 

* * 6/22/22, 6:06 PM * *

_Steve_

 

Steve stared stupidly at Tony’s door. Then, he sighed and shook his head, his fingers coiling and uncoiling nervously, his eyes glued to the door in front of him. God, he was pathetic. It had only been a few days since he’d seen Tony last. And yet, here he was. Pacing in front of Tony’s bedroom door like a hopeless teenager with some wretched crush.

Not that he had a crush—he _didn't_. He just… he couldn’t stop thinking about Tony. After what he’d said… Steve wanted to know more, figure out how exactly the two of them had managed to get along as much as they did. It wasn’t about falling in love, either—it was about getting over what had happened, about finding out what it was that had Tony start trusting him again.

It was hard being apart from him, much more than Steve thought it would be. And it had only been a week.

Apparently, Tony had met up with Reed Richards and a few other scientists. He’d come back to the Compound two days ago, but for some reason, Steve hadn’t seen him yet.

Was Tony avoiding him? Because he wasn’t ‘his’ Steve?

Ever since meeting this future version of Tony—ever since this Tony knew he wasn’t truly his husband, he’d forced himself to be as distant as possible, it seemed.

A part of Steve wanted to be mad at him for it.

The other part, well… the other part was much more disappointed than he had any right to be.

“Stop being stupid,” Steve muttered irritably. He dragged a hand over his face and took a step back. Who was he kidding? He wouldn’t be knocking on that door any time soon. If Tony didn’t want to talk to him— _fine_. Steve wouldn’t force him.

“I have a déjà-vu.”

Steve startled, whirling around. Bucky stood at the other side of the corridor, casually leaning against the wall as he smiled at him.

It was still weird, seeing him with the new hair cut, but the smartass grin was definitely the same in every timeline.

“I’m just…” Steve bit his lip. “Just wanted to see if Tony was home. Haven’t seen him all day.”

 _All week,_ more precisely.

“And the best way to do that is by staring at his door for half an hour?”

Steve scowled—Bucky knew him far too well—and walked over to him. “It hasn’t been half an hour.”

Not _exactly_ , anyway.

Bucky snorted and clapped his metal hand on Steve’s back as they made their way to the living room. “And here I thought I was done watching you pine for Tony Stark, but of course I ignored the possibility of time travel.”

Steve quirked a sheepish smile at him. “So I pined for him? My… other self, I mean.”

“For _months_ , yes,” Bucky said, huffing as he seemed to remember. “It was pathetic. But if it makes you feel better: Tony was just as bad.”

Once they’d left the corridor, Bucky walked over to the fridge, opening it and looking inside for a moment, before he retrieved two beers. He came back to the sofa area, sitting down next to Steve.

Steve nodded his thanks as he took one of the bottles, taking a sip. Despite not being able to get drunk, he still liked the taste. “That’s sort of hard to believe,” he said. “That _Tony Stark_ is pining after anyone, let alone after _me_.”

“Well, he married you,” Bucky said. “So of course he pined after you at some point.”

Steve shrugged, raising the bottle to his lips again. Only once he’d finished half the beer, he dared looking at Bucky again. “When did it start?” he asked. “Us, I mean?”

Bucky raised a brow at him. “You’re from… 2018, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I don’t know. You tell me. 2017? 2016? Earlier?”

Steve’s mouth opened in surprise, when he realized what Bucky was saying. He felt heat rising to his cheeks. “I’m not… I never even…” He sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve known you since kindergarten.”

“I’ve… always admired him,” he admitted, then breathed a soundless laugh. “The scariest thing about this is… after the initial shock, it’s… I can see myself falling for him so easily.”

“At least now you know he feels the same way about you. You didn’t have that the first time around. You never believed me when I said he was looking at you with big heart-eyes all the damn time.”

Steve let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling. It really was hard to imagine that Tony—not just Tony from 2022, but _his_ Tony, as well—was feeling for him like that.

“Maybe it’ll be different in my time. I know time travel has its consequences. Maybe me coming here is going to change things.”

Bucky frowned. “Bullshit.” He got up and fetched another beer from the fridge. Once he came back, he sat down in front of Steve, looking at him with a far more serious expression. “You two… you’re… absolutely nauseating. You’re so sickeningly in love with each other, I can’t imagine a little bit of time travel would suddenly convince Tony this wasn’t a good idea. When I said it started way before 2018, I mean Tony, too. Not that I’ve known him back then, but he talked about it, at your wedding, and he said he’d sometimes wished he could go back and just kiss you when you met, because that might’ve been one of the first things going through his head.”

Steve froze. That seemed absolutely impossible. “He said that?”

Bucky nodded, then smiled at Steve. “Tony Stark is wretchedly in love with you, Stevie. Doesn’t matter which time, or… hell, which universe, most likely. He’s devoted to you to a fault. It’s one of the reasons why I like him so much.”

“You do?”

Bucky shrugged, unbothered by the admission. “Once we got over, well…” He made a gesture with his hand resembling ‘you know’, “Tony’s a good guy. He forgave me. Now we’re friends.”

“And you and Tony,” Bucky continued, “trust me, you two have practically been joined at the hip since you… well… _joined_.” He made an unpleasant face. “We call that the ‘week of sin’, by the way, none of us wanted to be anywhere near you for days. I think Clint even moved to a motel.”

Steve put both of his hands over his face, rubbing his skin. Then, after he regained some sort of composure, he drew in a deep breath and turned in his seat. “Let’s say I might have… feelings for him. You really think he’ll return them?”

Bucky threw up his hands. “Really? How much more proof do you need? He _married_ you.”

“My Tony didn’t.” Not _yet_.

“He will. I have zero doubt about that. And just for the record… you two have my support—even then. Tony can be an ass, but—” He shrugged. “The good kind, right?”

Steve smiled. “Right.”

Bucky snorted, leaning back and taking a large swig. “And there they are. Heart-eyes. God, this is 2019 all over again.”

He could probably deny it, but there was little reason to it.

Because… Bucky was right. He’d started to fall for Tony long before this. Somewhere along the way, something had been happening between them. Tony had infuriated him, sure. He’d hurt him, made him want to scream at him more often than not… and yet, he’d also done so many wonderful things.

He’d made him laugh, he’d challenged him… and he’d saved his life.

Tony was an enigma. Steve had seen flashes of selflessness, compassion and devotion in him before, and knew that deep down, Tony was a man who needed to be loved and accepted. He constantly second-guessed himself, his actions, as if he were always preparing himself for rejection.

“Speaking of the devil,” Bucky said and Steve startled a little when he heard footsteps nearing the living room.

Or not footsteps, really, more like… shuffling.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Bucky called with a sweet voice when Tony came into view.

Tony murmured something unintelligible, though Steve thought he’d heard something close to ‘Fuck off, Elsa’, then he basically hugged the coffee machine until it produced what had to be a triple espresso.

Steve smiled at the sight, he just couldn’t help himself. Tony’s hair was tousled, his shirt had holes in it and there were about a dozen stains on his arms.

 _Beautiful_ came to mind, but Steve swallowed it down because he wasn’t ready yet to deal with these kinds of things.

Once Tony had downed the mug’s contents, he blinked a few times, then truly seemed to register them sitting on the couch. For a moment, his eyes lingered on Steve, and Steve could almost hear him think: ‘That’s still not your husband, keep it together.’

“What time issit?” Tony asked, his voice slurred.

“Six,” Steve replied. “Did you even sleep?”

“Not yet,” Tony said, then snorted when he saw Steve’s disapproving expression. “I will—in a bit. The 2018-Avengers have just arrived in Latveria. Reed is already tracking their movements. And that means we gotta prepare everything from our end.”

Steve frowned. “Don’t we just wait until they activate the time machine?”

“Mostly, yes, but…” Tony paused, frowned, then said, “Imagine it like that: They’re opening their door, and it leads to a corridor with lots of different doors. So we need to be the only other open door at the far end of the corridor, and we need to be open at the exact same time, otherwise there’s a good chance another door accidentally opens and the two of you land in, I don’t know, 2040.”

“That’s possible?” Steve asked, unsure.

“Not really. We won’t take any risks,” Tony hurried to say. “There’s no chance this can go wrong. I promise.”

Steve smiled. “I know. I trust you.”

Tony paused, then returned his smile—and for the first time since he’d realized that Steve wasn’t _his_ Steve, Tony’s smile was full of adoration and love again.

 

* * 4/7/18, 1:42 PM * *

_Tony_

 

Tony sighed when Steve checked his watch again. He’d been doing that for the better part of the last hour, always checking his watch and always telling him it wasn’t the right time, yet.

“How much longer?” Tony asked.

Steve let his head fall back against the wall. “Another twenty minutes.”

Right. Tony groaned as he let his suit’s helmet bleed back into the armor. “And you’re sure we can’t just barge in there and take the Sequencer? Friday tells me this Doom-guy’s defense isn’t something we have to worry about.”

“We could fight him,” Steve offered, eyeing him. “But I think we should stick to the plan and try to steal the Sequencer without him noticing. And then bring it back after we used it.”

Tony hummed to show he’d heard. They’d been sitting here for about an hour already, just biding their time until they could move through the castle unnoticed. They‘d split up into groups of twos and threes, and Tony hadn‘t been too surprised anymore when Steve had decided to come with him.

“There’s only one patrol of Doombots coming here,” Steve explained. “We can shut them down easy, we just have to do it before they send off an alarm. If we do this without Doom noticing, the changes to our timeline should be minimal.”

It would likely be a good idea to follow Steve’s lead for now—Tony had to admit that. He knew Steve was afraid to muck up his future—and Tony didn’t want to be responsible for ruining it.

He frowned when his gaze fell on Steve’s wedding ring again.

When he’d first learned that Steve was married, he’d thought he’d felt envious. Envious about Steve having what he’d never managed to have: a steady relationship, a permanent commitment.

But it wasn’t that. Not _only_ , anyway.

Because if Tony was perfectly honest with himself… it wasn’t envy he was feeling.

It was jealousy.

He’d deal with it, obviously. It wasn’t as if he’d ever had any hope of sparking Steve’s interest. That was a ridiculous thought. But seeing the reminder of his marital happiness still felt like a punch to the gut every damn time.

The ring barely peaked out beneath Steve’s gloves, but there was something about it. Something that constantly caught Tony’s eye, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Which only sparked his curiosity even more.

“Tell me about your wife?” he asked at last. He’d meant to ask about Mrs. Rogers for a while now, but he never truly found the right time. “Is it Sharon?”

Steve followed his line of sight, and ever-so-subtly drew his hand back. “No, it’s not,” he said.

“Someone I know?”

A sigh. “I can’t tell you, you know that.”

“I’m not asking for a name, I’m just asking if I know her.”

Steve brushed a hand over his face, then shook his head. “I can’t tell you that either. Sorry.”

Curiosity got the better of him, so Tony reached for Steve’s hand before he drew it back, but Steve’s other one shot out and grabbed him.

“Stop it,” he hissed defensively, but there was nervousness in his expression as well.

“Why? Just let me—”

“I said: _No!”_

Tony raised both brows and his eyes flicked up to Steve for just an instant. At the honest-to-god- _terrified_ look on his face.

Okay, what was going on here?

Now he _really_ needed to look at that ring.

So Tony ducked his head and let go of Steve, seemingly giving up. “But you’re happy?” he asked.

“I already told you I am,” Steve answered, relaxing a bit. He turned to him. “And you are, as well.”

Tony bit his lower lip. “That’s what _you_ think.”

“It’s what I know,” Steve corrected, shooting him an irritated glance. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Some people just aren’t meant to be happy,” Tony whispered after a moment, wincing at how gloomy he sounded.

That had Steve frown and he reached over to console him, putting his own hand on top of Tony’s. “I’d like to think you just needed the right… people around you. To be happy, I mean. There are few days when I don’t see you laugh at least once.”

Tony watched with bated breath as Steve’s thumb brushed over the back of his hand, and he couldn’t help it. He shivered, his own forefinger moving just that tiny bit to touch Steve’s hand, watching the movement as if it might be his last one.

Steve didn’t draw back, though, he just lingered, the expression on his face one of utter comfort, like this wasn’t a groundbreaking development.

Only after a beat, he startled as if he only now remembered this was absolutely _not_ something the two of them did, and he started to draw his hand back.

Tony moved before it was too late. Leaning past Steve to grab his other hand, snatching the wedding ring away from him. Steve tried to get it back; but Tony held it out of reach.

“Damn it, Tony!”

“Simmer down. I just want to check something.”

The golden ring was perfectly smooth on the outside, but beneath the surface, there were… small fragments. Tiny splitters that almost looked like…

Shrapnels.

Tony exhaled a low breath, his mind going to a complete and utter stand-still. He turned the ring, dreading what the inscription on the inside would be, though the signs were already pretty damn clear.

His eyes scanned the words, then he closed them, blocking everything out.

_You had my heart all along. –Tony_

Wordlessly, he handed Steve’s ring back, trying to decide whether he really wanted answers to the questions trying to leap off his tongue.

Steve sighed deeply as he turned the ring over in his hands, then put it back around his finger. “I didn’t want you to find out,” he whispered.

Tony nodded, then nodded some more. He half expected to suffer from a seizure any moment, because his brain just didn’t manage to wrap itself around this.

What the _fuck?_

_How...?_

_When...?_

“Tony…” Steve prompted softly.

Fighting the urge to simply stand up and leave the corridor, Tony pushed his face into his waiting hands. He could feel his heart beat against his ribcage, could feel an intense buzzing taking home in his head, drowning out every other sound.

It couldn’t be.

God—It was only four years. How had he managed to get there in four short years? Convincing Steve to be with him, to marry him… just… _how?_

“When I said we’re friends, I didn’t lie,” Steve said quietly, barely audible in the vast dark corridor.

“But we’re not only friends,” Tony concluded.

Steve breathed in, deep. “We are…” His eyes drifted past him, as if searching for the right words. Then they locked back onto him. “Tony I… I really don’t want to mess anything up.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to think it’s too late for that.” Tony took a deep breath and forged ahead. “So, how the hell do we…”

“It’s a really, really long story.”

He pointed at Steve’s watch. “We’ve still got time to kill.”

Steve looked at it and pursed his lips. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about you start with… after everything that…” He swallowed. “How did we get over it?”

Steve shrugged. “We… talked.”

“Talked?” Tony barked out a choked laugh. “Why did we not think of that sooner?!”

“Tony, calm down.”

“Easy for you to say!” He stood up and rounded on Steve. “So we… talked. That’s all. Really?”

“I told you, it’s a long story.” Steve stood up as well. He shuffled over and, after a brief hesitation, stepped right up to Tony. “It’s not like we started getting along overnight. I mean, after Siberia, we hadn’t talked to each other for almost two years, then there was Thanos—”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “And after that?”

“We got better.”

“So I gathered.” Tony swallowed, taking a deep breath. “But… how?”

Steve looked chagrined at that. “It’s less weird than you probably think it is.”

“Gotta have to take your word for it, because from my point of view, it’s pretty damn weird. You and I—we’re not… we’ve never… you never even looked at me twice. For God’s sake, we’re like the last two people who should ever hook up!”

Steve didn’t look too fazed by that. “We were aware of that, trust me. And yet, it happened. We hadn’t planned for it, it just happened. And we didn’t regret it once.”

Tony stood still as he pointedly stared at the floor. Then he looked at Steve, _really_ looked, past the Captain America uniform. Steve held his gaze, unwavering, his eyes full of concern and… and tenderness, and possibly some other things that Tony couldn’t bring himself to think about just yet.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that,” Steve said, a shadow falling over his face. “I never wanted you to. It might change everything.”

Tony’s anger slowly melted away. “It already _is_ changing everything.”

Steve looked pained. “I know.”

There was a long minute of silence, before Tony couldn’t help it anymore. “So… you and me. We are really that close?”

It was a stupid question, all things considered. Steve’s ring was proof enough of that.

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed anyway, his smile painting his face in wistfulness. “We are.”

“Well.” Tony’s voice came out heavier than he’d have liked, so he swallowed. “Imagine that.”

“Don’t have to,” Steve whispered. “Already living it.”

That gave Tony an idea. “Prove it.”

Steve raised a brow at him. “Prove what?”

“That you know me so well. That we’re really… _that_.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out what Steve thought about that. His exasperated expression said it all.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “That you like your coffee with a half spoon of sugar, but you always order black coffee for some reason? That you didn’t meet Rhodey at an MIT party, like you always say you did, but while you got stuck in a locker? That you never managed a single deep breath when you still had the arc reactor, or that you like to eat spicy food, though your stomach can rarely handle it…?”

“No,” Tony interrupted, though he felt his face heating up. “You could’ve figured all of that out by talking to Pepper.”

Steve sighed and cast him a contemplating look. “I also know about Obadiah.” His face became sympathetic. “About… you know.”

Tony swallowed. “About what?”

“Just… what happened with him, before he died.” His voice was gentle. His eyes flicked to Tony, then settled back on his watch. “How he tried to kill you, how he left you to die, and how you had to kill him. The things he… the way he goaded you into it.”

Slowly, Tony shook his head. “I have never…” He paused, wanting badly to take off, to run from this strange man who knew his deepest secrets. Instead, he raised his chin, staring Steve down. “I never even told Pepper what exactly he did with me.”

“I’m sorry, Tony. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you fucking well shouldn’t have! You shouldn’t know!” He turned back to Steve. “Why would I tell you that?”

“Because you could,” Steve said softly. “Because you needed to tell somebody. And because we lo—”

“Iron Man—Cap,” came a voice through the comm-line, mercifully stopping Steve from saying _that_. “You have incoming in ten.”

“Copy,” Steve said and sent Tony a pointed glance. “You ready?”

Tony nodded and closed his faceplate. There would be enough time to deal with this. Enough time to get over the fact that there was a time and place in the universe where Steve had wanted to marry him.

“Let’s get that time machine of yours,” Tony said, just in time before one of the bots turned up in the shadows.

Steve took it down with one swift movement, then fell in step beside Tony. Together, they moved on and fought side by side, as if they’d done it all their lives.

It was intoxicating to have someone at his side who was exactly his equal, who could meet and match his every move. Tony had never had that sense of partnership before. Not like this.

They fitted together like hand in glove, and once the last bot was down, Tony couldn’t help but stare at Steve in utter wonder, as if truly seeing him for the very first time.

Wondering if this was really his future.

Wondering if _Steve_ somehow wanted this, too.

Wondering if there was any chance at all the universe wouldn’t take this from him before it even started.


	4. Chapter 4

* * 6/23/22, 2:31 PM * *

_Steve_

 

The steps of the stairway creaked beneath Steve’s boots, softly but loudly enough to announce his descent. Tony looked up from his place at one of the workbenches, smiling at him warmly.

Tony pulled the goggles from his head. He was silent for a beat longer, but eventually, he spoke up. Future or past—it seemed Tony was always bad with silences. “You alright?”

Steve nodded, though he didn’t really feel like it. In only a few hours, he’d be switched back in time—which was good, of course. He _wanted_ to go back. He was just… worried what would wait for him on the other side.

Because… while Steve hadn’t _wanted_ to let it happen, it was growing increasingly difficult to fight the wealth of affection blossoming within his chest for this man. This stupid but brilliant man who’d pushed him to his limits so often.

It seemed that now that he knew this might be his future— _their future_ —he knew one thing beyond any shred of uncertainty: He wanted Tony to be his. To know that he belonged to him. He wouldn’t have dreamt of it before, but now…

He didn’t know if he could deal with Tony’s rejection, though he knew in his heart that it awaited him on the other side of the ‘corridor’, as Tony had put it.

“Everything worked out just as we planned it,” Tony prompted, and Steve knew there was a question underlying his words.

“I know,” he said as he walked around Tony’s table, looking at the room.

It was amazing how the world had changed in only four short years. Or was it just Tony’s workshop? There were so many things Steve didn’t recognize—the displays alone looked nothing like he had seen in 2018.

The only constant, it seemed, was DUM-E.

The bot stood in the room’s corner, though his claw was moving curiously when Steve walked closer.

“Hi there,” he said and smiled when DUM-E straightened up a little to get to his height.

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” Steve explained to Tony while he walked over and petted DUM-E’s claw.

He heard footsteps, then Tony came up next to him. There was a small smile playing on his lips. “You wouldn’t have. He was offline back in your time.”

“He was? Why?”

Tony hummed, rubbing a hand over his neck, as if embarrassed. “When I sold the Tower and moved to the Compound, I don’t know… I wasn’t in a good place, and I guess I didn’t want to be cheered up.”

Steve briefly closed his eyes, sighing. “I didn’t know that.”

Tony shrugged. “It’s alright. I’m sure you had to deal with your own demons after the Sokovia Accords.” He glanced at Steve, smiling a little. “I keep forgetting what it was like in 2018, but… you and your Tony… you haven’t seen each other in a long while, hm?”

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed. “We only just regrouped to fight Thanos.”

Tony’s head tilted as he regarded him. “And now you’re nervous what I will think of you when you come back?”

Steve swallowed—then nodded. “I know it sounds stupid. You married me, after all. Just… you said it yourself… what if this changed how things will play out? What if you—your past ‘you’—reject me?”

“To be honest, I’m trying desperately not to think about that,” Tony admitted and sighed. “I know how I can be—or could be, when it comes to you. I’m not exactly… rational. About you. Guess you’ll just have to convince me.”

“Any tips on what works for you?” Steve’s cheeks flamed as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so suggestive, but somehow, it had. “I mean… I’m not here to…”

“It’s fine. I know what you meant,” Tony said, laughing. He smiled at Steve warmly. “And you’ll do just fine, Steve. I don’t think I can be much of help. You always knew far better how to get my head out of my ass. Just be yourself. I happen to like that.”

Steve breathed a long sigh. He wasn’t so sure that would be enough, but didn’t find it in himself to worry Tony even more.

A hand touched his shoulder, staying there. “It’ll be alright,” Tony said. “If you want it—we’ll find a way to each other. The two of us, we went through so much. And whatever your Tony does and says, I assure you it’s not because he doesn’t feel for you, he’s just…” He shrugged. “A man who’s not too got with handling his own emotions. He doesn’t believe you’re a possibility. So he won't get too close.”

Steve raised a brow, looking at Tony. “You’ve changed.”

“I haven’t,” Tony said, huffing. The hand on his shoulder moved a little, brushing a thumb along Steve’s neck. “But you’re my other half. I can be honest around you. Took me a while, but… I’ve learned not to give you any bullshit. Not about the important stuff, anyway.” He smiled, soft and sweet and so unlike Tony that Steve couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d missed in all the time he’d known him. “What’d be the point?” Tony went on. “Since we got married… I… Whenever I think about where I might be in five—or ten years from now, I think about you first, and that’s… amazing. And something like that… it’s too damn important to chance it.”

Steve felt something very warm settle in his chest. “You really love me, huh?”

“More than anything,” Tony confirmed, without missing a beat. “Does that scare you?”

Steve swallowed. “Not… really.” His gaze didn’t waver, but he dropped his eyes eventually, and sighed. “For as long as I can remember I… I was used to not getting what I wanted for myself. I was alright with the fact that my responsibilities came first. My friends, my team… everyone. But now… knowing that this might be mine… makes me worry I won’t get it, you know?”

“Taking it one step at a time.” Tony reached out and stroked Steve’s palm. “Well, your next step is getting through today.”

Steve looked down. Tony’s hands had always fascinated him, all the different things they could do. How often he used them to create, pouring out all of the thoughts built up inside him to create something new. The way they could comfort as easily as hurt.

He closed his fingers around Tony’s and stroked the back of his hand. “Have I ever thanked you?”

“For what?”

“For giving us another try, after the Accords.”

Tony smiled, and nodded. “I could thank you just as much. But… you’re welcome.”

Bracing himself, Steve turned his hand in Tony’s own, pushing Tony’s fingers open until their palms pressed together.

Looking down, Steve felt his insides twist with the sudden want to be able to do that all the time. He wanted to soak up Tony’s warmth; wanted to take him in his arms and hold him close enough so that their memories became one.

And he _wanted_ those memories. He saw them in Tony’s eyes every single day. He saw _everything_ in Tony’s eyes. It was all there. Every moment, every caress, every kiss of his lips and hug of his body. Laughter and tears, heated arguments and even more heated reconciliations.

He wanted those memories unlocked. He wanted that new and scary part of himself. That sort of passion, that sort of selflessness, that sort of love was something he’d craved for longer than he’d liked to admit. And to know he was going to have it—with _Tony_ —was both wonderful and very, very frightening.

“It was worth it,” Tony said. Steve didn’t need to ask what he meant, but Tony told him anyway. “The pain after Sokovia, after Siberia… it was worth all of it. The arc reactor, finding out about Bucky, losing you over him… all of it. Got no regrets.” He bit his lip, then laughed, a sort of wheezing sound, and shook his head. “Well, we both know that’s a lie. But I’ll never regret _you_.” He pulled his hand from Steve’s and instead held his face in both hands. “For me you’re worth it, Steve. Every bit of it. You have to believe that.”

Steve said nothing because he knew his voice would break. He wished he had Tony’s way with words. But it felt like a good time for some of that action he was usually so big on.

So, grasping his face in return, he pulled Tony in and kissed him.

 

* * 5/7/18, 04:03 AM * *

_Tony_

 

There was absolutely nothing worth watching on television. And Tony should know, he’d spent the past two and a half hours flipping through the same two hundred and sixty-five channels with nothing to show for it. There was news, home-shopping channels, late-night television, sitcoms, but nothing grabbed his interest or did anything to take his mind off of…

…of _It_.

The Impossible Thing.

Tony heaved a long-suffering sigh, raising the tumbler he’d been nursing to his lips all night as his fingers manipulated the remote control.

He didn’t want much. Just a distraction from the waste he’d managed to turn his life into. Something that helped him to forget the look on Steve’s face after their fight with the Doombots—the way he’d looked at Tony like he was worth _everything_. The way Tony had felt, in those few minutes, more valued, more cherished, more loved than he ever had in his entire life.

Tony heaved another sigh, took another hearty swig, and switched the channel again. New episode of _The Walking Dead._ Fantastic.

Tony honestly had no damn clue what he was going to do when Steve got back, because… It was laughable, wasn’t it? Completely mad. A part of him was still sure this was a mistake, a joke, _something—but_ of course, it wasn’t.

He had let himself fall in love with Steve Rogers. Of course he would have. Given the slightest chance, given only a few months—weeks—of being at Steve’s side in a peaceful manner would unlock all of the things he’d kept very close to his heart for all these past years.

In any way, falling in love with Steve wasn’t what surprised Tony. Steve had always held a rather special place in his heart.

It was… it was Steve reciprocating that he didn’t understand.

What on earth had he done to make Steve Rogers return those feelings? To make him believe a relationship with Tony would be a good idea. He just—he couldn’t picture it. He had been trying for the past hours, but whenever his mind tried to cook up a scenario where Steve said ‘yes’ to him, it was drawing a blank.

And time travel was tricky business. It was so easy to change what had been—and what would be. If someone travels back in time, anything that someone did would serve to create the future he lives in. Or it may create a different future altogether.

Which meant that, despite Steve claiming to have married him in the future, it didn’t mean that would still be happening.

A decision was defined by a great number of possibilities, after all.

And Steve Rogers… had never been a possibility.

God, what was he supposed to do now? He and Pepper… they hadn’t even been broken up for long. And he’d _loved_ Pepper. He had. And yet, lately he’d often thought that maybe, all these years, he’d just been biding his time with her, waiting for… for someone who saw him. _Really_ saw him. For someone who could give as good as he got, whether fighting or arguing or… or just talking, even. Comforting each other. Watching each other’s back. Taking up the other’s cause. Someone who was his equal, but also his better, who made him want to _be_ better. Someone…

No. Not someone.

 _Steve_.

Fuck—this was ridiculous. He wouldn’t be falling for Steve in the future, he was already right there, wasn’t he? Believing in fate, though, that was something Tony just couldn’t do. It was too much of a romantic notion. All of these patterns, choices and opportunities, as if his life had been designed to bring him here, to meet this version of Steve that would make him see how good they could be together?

It just wasn’t possible.

Tony was so lost in his thoughts, which were slowly accompanied by a pre-hangover headache, it took him a full minute to realize that someone was in the living room with him.

When Tony turned around on the couch, he raised a brow at who he saw standing there in the doorway. And he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused when he met the piercing gaze of one James Buchanan Barnes, and thus settled for indifferent.

“Well, hello,” he said, nodding without sitting up. “What brings _you_ here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Barnes said, then crossed the threshold. He walked towards the other end of the couch, but stopped before he sat down. “Can I?”

“Be my guest,” Tony said and waved with his tumbler-hand before tossing the last sip down his throat. Then, he pushed the remote control in Barnes’ general direction. “Go ahead while I drink myself to death.”

Barnes was quiet for a long minute, his attention focused on the half-empty bottle next to Tony. “What are you doing?”

“Well, before you showed up, I was debating between Whiskey and Bourbon next.” He paused for emphasis. “Bourbon was winning.”

“No, what are you _doing?”_ He paused, then cast Tony a contemplating look. “Is this about Steve?”

Tony blinked, fighting back a hysterical chuckle. “Why should it be about Steve?”

He figured Steve hadn’t told Barnes, what with his panic of messing up his future. So Barnes didn’t know about… It. Tony just needed to calm the fuck down.

“You’ve both been weird since you got back from the mission,” Barnes clarified. “Tomorrow, Steve will come back and… just want to make sure there’s not going to be a problem.”

Tony gasped dramatically, slapping a hand across his chest. “A _problem?_ Why should there be a problem?”

Barnes raised a brow, then pointed to the bottle of Scotch.

Tony scoffed. “There’s no problem. You’ve heard Steve’s future-self: We’re all going to be one happy family.”

“Yeah, and you sure look excited about that.”

“I’m just being realistic. This grand future of his? Might not even be happening. Every time travel creates an alternative timeline. The fact that he influenced this timeline means his future won’t be ours for sure.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, “I think you’re wrong about that.”

Tony leveled a glare at him. “And I think you know shit about anything.”

“Tell me, are you really so arrogant?” Barnes asked on an eye-roll. “Or is it all just a charade?”

“Are _you_ really so arrogant to think I care about your opinion?” Tony countered. “You don’t know me at all, Barnes. So don’t even try.”

“I know you enough to know you care about Steve a lot. Even if the timeline has changed—that’s still true, isn’t it?”

Tony’s jaw clenched. Was he that obvious? He _did_ care about Steve of course—but fuck if he ever confessed as much.

“That’s none of your business,” Tony said through gritted teeth.

Barnes broke away with a sigh, his massive shoulders slumping in a manner that almost imitated defeat. A few uncomfortable seconds of silence spread between them. They seemed at an impassable standstill.

Then, before Tony knew what was happening, Barnes reached for the bottle and took a long sip.

Tony scoffed, but didn’t say anything. When Barnes was finished, he offered the Scotch to him, and after a moment’s contemplation, Tony accepted and took a sip straight from the bottle as well.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony asked afterwards. “If you came here to tell me to lay off your friend, you can just go. We won’t ever— _ever_ —be a thing. I haven’t—”

“Steve’s stubborn.”

Tony snorted, the alcohol still burning down his throat. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“He’s stubborn. And he…” Barnes fell silent for a long beat, obviously wrestling with himself. “I know he’ll hate me for telling you, but… he likes you. When we arrived in Wakanda, he was… I’ve never seen him like that. Looked a lot like heartbreak to me.”

Tony huffed, ignoring how his insides clenched painfully at the thought. “Much as I’d love to take credit for that, I assure you it wasn’t about me.”

Barnes took the bottle from him again and drank. “He wrote forty-six letters before he eventually sent one of them to you. I found them in the trash afterwards.”

Tony felt he was perfectly justifiable in his numb stare.

“Steve,” Barnes clarified, even if it was far from needed. “He wrote—”

“I heard you.”

“Yeah.”

Tony’s eyes found a spot on the wall and focused. There was nothing about this that made any sense. His life was getting wonkier by the minute, and it was entirely Steve’s fault. “What did he write?” he asked.

“I stopped reading when he compared losing you to losing Peggy, always missing his chance.”

Well _fuck._

Tony swallowed. He had no idea why Barnes was entrusting him with any of this highly private information, but…

_But._

If Steve had done that, maybe he… really cared for him more than Tony would’ve thought.

Without saying anything, he held out his hand to take the bottle back.

Barnes, however, shot him a look and held the Scotch out of reach, mercifully not saying what Tony already knew: He’d had enough for the night.

“It’s a combination of things—with Steve,” Barnes said. “He’s alright as long as he has a purpose. The army, SHIELD, the Avengers—he had a place. Not always a good one, otherwise he wouldn’t have worked as hard to close SHIELD down, but… he had something to hold on to. And he had you guys at his back if he needed you. But ever since the team split up… he’s… lost.”

“Yeah, well, he made that choice. Not me.”

Barnes nodded. “Right. But even so… he made that choice knowing it would break him.”

“But he has you.”

Barnes shrugged. “Yes. He’ll always have me. And yet, Steve’s the... the most alone person I’ve ever met. Always has been. And I think the rejection is starting to get to him. It’s been month after month of rejection, from everybody, for so long now. And… Steve… I think he was really scared about coming back here.” Barnes looked sideways at him, his expression meaningful.

Tony blinked. “What, because of me?”

“Yes, because of you,” Barnes said. “He was afraid of you pushing him away. Which is your right to do. But because he’s scared, he keeps being really grumpy about it. And I think he’s lost all hope at some point. And without hope...”

“It goes both ways,” Tony said, irritated now. “Nothing’s fixed. Do you think anything about this was easy for me?”

Barnes smiled a little. “I don’t. But I also don’t think either of you realize how much the other has truly suffered. You keep playing it down whenever you see each other, and hiding your pain all the time is just no good… you need to _talk_ about it.”

Tony scoffed. “Okay, you know what? That’s enough therapy for one day. Steve’s a big boy, and so am I. We survived so far.”

“But he’s your friend,” Barnes pointed out. “If nothing else, he’s your friend.”

“He _was,”_ Tony said, his voice far more vulnerable than he wanted it to be.

Barnes looked at him for another long moment, then, with a heavy breath, he turned around fully. “Look, Stark. I don’t know how to make this any clearer for you. Steve cares about you. _Really_ cares about you.”

His façade was crumbling. Tony felt it, but could do shit about it. So he buried his face in his hands instead, feeling far too sober for a heart-to-heart conversation with the murderer of his parents.

“I never wanted to lose him,” he confessed.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Tony could feel the cold metal all the way to his bones. “Then don’t.”

 

* * 6/23/22, 2:46 PM * *

_Steve_

 

Slowly, Steve drew back, gauging Tony’s reaction.

Tony shook his head as if to clear it, then raised a hand to rub at his eyes. “I’m not processing things properly. Uh, give me a moment.”

Steve felt his cheeks heat a little.

Tony cocked his head sideways at him and smiled. “So. That’s a surprise. You haven’t switched timelines all by yourself, have you?”

Steve shook his head, not really knowing how to explain that… the concept of them together was much more intriguing than he dared to admit to himself. “I was just… curious.”

Tony hummed and looked more amused than anything else. “I might have to tease you with that once you get back. You never said you had feelings for me this early on.”

“I never knew it was an option,” Steve admitted, biting his lip so he wouldn’t just kiss Tony again. To distract himself a little, he touched Tony’s wedding band, fingertips rubbing lightly over it. It was no use, though, he could still feel Tony’s breath against his face, shuddering through his open mouth. Tony’s lips were so close, so tempting. So Steve took his face in his hands and kissed him again.

After a beat, Tony’s arms wrapped about him and he was kissing him with such intensity, with such need, that it was like being hit by a tidal wave. Steve toppled over, his arms tight around Tony’s waist. He could barely make it to the couch and let himself be pressed into it.

And then they were lying there, clasped in each other’s arms, and Steve was kissing Tony over and over again, his mouth desperate on his.

“Too many clothes,” Tony muttered then, and started to tug at Steve’s pants.

He intercepted him, slipping the buttons of Tony’s shirt loose one by one, licking every inch of his skin as it became exposed, sliding his shirt away smoothly.

Then his hands were on Tony’s chest and then his lips, licking at one nipple, pressing it against the roof of his mouth. Tony was making helpless, inarticulate sounds in his throat, his hands clenching on Steve’s head.

Steve felt a deep, racking shudder go through Tony when he pressed down on him even further. He was shaking continuously now and so was Steve, so turned on that it was almost painful.

 _Addictive_ , came to mind, and Steve twisted around to cover Tony with his own body. “Oh, yes,” Tony sighed as Steve’s weight settled fully on top of him.

His body rubbed sinuously against the length of him, pressing down hard and demanding. Tony moaned and his body arched into him, thighs parting to accommodate him, shifting to grip his waist as his hands raked his back and shoulders and biceps, kneading his flesh.

When Tony’s hands pressed into his ass, Steve bit his shoulder involuntarily, and his whole body jerked as he groaned aloud.

God, he was already close, and they hadn’t even started.

However, when he looked up to meet Tony’s gaze, he didn’t see the lust-addled expression he’d hoped to find there. Instead Tony frowned at him, suddenly unsure.

“Wait,” Tony said then, stopping Steve with a gentle press to his shoulders. “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

Steve panted. “But…”

“You should do that with _your_ Tony,” Tony clarified. “Not that I don’t want to, trust me, I do, but… I don’t want to spoil your first time with each other.”

Steve let himself slump down against Tony, mindful to keep some of his weight off him. He knew Tony was right. Even though they were the same people, it still wasn’t the same.

“He… he hasn’t forgiven me,” he said. “About lying to him. About leaving him. I’m not sure he ever will.”

 _What if this is my only chance?_ he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. Because if he and Tony didn’t happen—he’d also destroy this future of theirs, and he knew that was about the last thing Tony needed to hear right now.

“ _Obviously_ , he did,” Tony said. “ _I_ did. I forgave you. Just as you forgave me.”

Steve nodded, wanting to believe that so badly. He dropped down on his back next to Tony, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “I just… I still can’t believe this,” he said. “I’ve only been here for a few days, but… I don’t know how I can stand having you hate me again.”

“I never… I never _hated_ you, Steve.” Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he raised himself to his elbows. He looked positively ravaged, pants tented, hair a mess, lips kiss-swollen—and Steve had to look at the ceiling to not do something stupid like try to convince Tony that having sex right now was a _really_ good idea.

“Think about it like that,” Tony went on. “The only reason why I resented you so much is because you’re about the only person in the world who can hurt me this deeply.”

Steve frowned. “I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.”

Tony sighed and leaned up more fully, until he was halfway lying down on Steve again. One of his hands stroked Steve’s face, his hair, then he kissed his mouth again. “Don’t lose hope, alright? If you lose hope, I will lose this, too. And that’s not an option.”

Steve nodded, stroking the wedding ring on Tony’s finger. He didn’t have to ask to know it was vibranium. It was exactly the kind of ring he would’ve chosen to give to Tony.

“I love you,” Tony said, smiling softly. “Remember that. You and I… we _earned_ this. Don’t let it go. He will love you, too. Believe that. Believe in us.”

“I do,” Steve whispered and crushed Tony to him so tightly that he felt their bones might fuse together any moment.

 

* * 5/7/18, 08:42 PM * *

_Tony_

 

Tony pointedly stared at the Null Time Sequencer, turning on the soldering iron in his hand. There was only one last adjustment he had to make, before everything was just as it was written in the Blueprint From The Future.

Sam, Barnes and Natasha weren’t here yet, but it was only a matter of minutes now, then Steve would be sent back to his own time.

“Are you sure I have to get undressed for this?” the man in question called.

Tony rolled his eyes. “It’s not a move to get you naked, if that’s what you want to know. Your husband was very specific on what you could take with you, and that’s… nothing. Sorry.”

“So, my shield…” Steve prompted.

“Has to stay here, yes,” Tony said. He sighed. “I mean, the good thing is that our Steve brought his own shield with him, right? So you’ll still have that one.”

Steve’s head poked out from behind the folding screen, where he was currently undressing himself. He didn’t look too happy at the prospect. “They’re not the same,” he said.

Tony frowned and turned sideways to inspect the shield currently leaning against his work desk. “I noticed that yours looks a little different,” he mused, brushing a hand over the smooth surface. The vibranium felt somewhat slicker than he remembered it. “What happened with it?”

Steve was quiet for a moment, like he always was whenever Tony asked him a question about the future, then said, “You improved it a few months ago.”

“I… _improved_ it,” Tony echoed, his eyes widening. “Wait. You let me work on your _shield_? But you never allowed me to… I asked like… a _hundred_ times, minimum.”

Steve huffed. “I remember. Believe me, I remember.”

“But—”

“I only said yes after we got married.”

Tony paused, pointedly staring at the machine in front of him. Whenever Steve mentioned the m-word, Tony just didn’t know how to react. After he’d found out, they hadn’t talked about it again. Tony didn’t know how to behave around him—around a man who knew him better than anyone, when Tony still knew so little about him in return.

So instead of reacting to _that_ , he scoffed. “So that’s what it takes, huh?”

Steve’s head poked out again, and he grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “That’s exactly what it takes, yes.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. Because a truthful answer would’ve been that… that the prospect sounded less scary by the second.

“But you _did_ actually improve it,” Steve added, his voice more serious. “Didn’t think it was possible, but it’s you, so… you surprised me. The handling is just perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony said, then frowned. “Or will be. I guess.”

He heard Steve chuckle, then there was the sound of clothes falling to the ground—followed by some shuffling and then…

…then Steve was standing right in front of him. And he was only wearing skimpy boxer briefs and nothing else.

Tony couldn’t help but stare. And he found himself watching the subtle movement of Steve’s hips thrusting forward as he walked towards the time machine. Suddenly, Tony had this vivid vision of those hips against his own, Steve’s naked body upon him, the scent of him in his nose, the feel of him when he’d push inside.

Tony felt himself hardening and his whole body grew hot. Yeah, that was—really not the time for a boner, he thought, but his eyes clearly had other ideas as they took in Steve’s broad back, his thinning waist, his pert ass and very nice thighs.

Halfway to the machine, Steve paused, his head turning around. His eyes were narrowed and his face puzzled. “You alright?” he asked as if he didn’t fully know what parading around half-naked would do to Tony. Then, Steve’s gaze dropped and his eyes widened. “Tony, be caref—”

Tony yelped when he noticed something hot burning right into his hand. _Fuck_ , he’d completely forgotten that he was still holding the soldering iron.

Before he completely knew what was happening, Steve was already by his side, pushing Tony towards the sink. He turned on the water and thrust Tony’s hand beneath the spray.

Tony winced at first, then sighed when the icy cold water soothed his blistering skin. Steve was standing right behind him now, his body pressing into Tony’s body from shoulders to feet. And Tony really, really hated the way his body warmed and melted into Steve as if there was some foreign instinct kicking in.

Steve still had a hold on Tony’s hand, his other arm wrapped around his waist, and even though Steve could obviously barely contain his amusement, Tony found himself slumping against him fully.

It was unfair. The more Tony tried to battle himself about this thing between them, the more pliant his will seemed to become.

“Easy now,” Steve said softly, trying and failing to conceal his mirth. He guided Tony’s hand through the water, turning it back and forth. “That’s it.”

“Could you be anymore smug?” Tony murmured.

“You’re welcome. Come on, you should sit down.”

Tony huffed indignantly as Steve practically forced his butt onto the nearest chair.

“You do that often?” Steve asked, smile still very prominent on his face.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Steve chuckled and kneeled in front of him.

Tony frowned and rubbed his sore skin. “You know, you really can be very distracting.”

Steve’s shit-eating grin was both sexy and just plain infuriating. “So you’ve told me many times.”

It took him a moment to realize Steve meant his future self. Right. Of course Tony’s sudden attraction wouldn’t exactly be big news to Steve. This Steve already knew Tony was head over heels for him.

But instead of teasing him about it some more, Steve only kept grinning and took Tony’s hand in his own. “Come here. Let’s see the damage.”

“I don’t need your help,” Tony said. However, that knowledge didn’t stop him from leaning into Steve’s touch. “Ow,” he hissed, when Steve ran his fingers gently over the wound, frowning.

“It’s pretty deep,” Steve murmured. “It may leave a mark. I can’t remember seeing it on you.” He sighed deeply. “Another change I caused.”

“A minor one,” Tony reminded him gently. “It’s only a bruise. Don’t worry about it.”

Steve nodded, but the corners of his mouth were lifting slightly. “I can kiss it better, if you like.”

Tony scrunched up his nose. “Stop saying that. I’m not… ready for you to say things like that.”

“If you say so,” Steve mused, but he didn’t look particularly bothered by it.

Tony felt his cheeks heating up and broke his gaze from Steve’s, rubbing his wrist when he couldn’t find anything to do with his free hand. He then stood up and sidestepped Steve, because if he didn’t get away right now, he might do something really stupid.

He didn’t know what he dreaded more, exactly. Saying goodbye to this version of Steve—or meeting his Steve again.

Did Steve know about them? Had he been as shell-shocked as Tony? Would he come back and leave as soon as he laid eyes on Tony, getting as far away as possible?

It was impossible to tell, but somehow, Tony felt as if he was a tightrope walker, crossing over a giant abyss, and it was only a matter of time before he’d fall. And once that happened... it was a fifty-fifty chance if he’d fall down into a safety net, or into open air.

Taking a deep breath, Tony pointed towards the time machine. “That was the last adjustment,” he said. “Everything’s good to go now. We shouldn’t miss your window.”

“Tony…” Steve called softly, stepping up behind him again.

Tony felt himself tensing up. He knew what he sounded and looked like. Like he was terrified of Steve, of what Steve meant to him. Tony’s gaze dropped to the floor automatically, so he wouldn’t have to meet Steve’s eyes. “It’s alright,” he said. After a beat, he changed his mind and turned around again. “Just tell me one thing,” he started. “Why have we never talked like this before? Why was it always so difficult between us?”

Steve thought for a moment. “As far as I can remember… I never thought you’d want that,” he confessed. “A friendship with me, I mean. I always believed you tolerated me at best, but… I wasn’t sure you actually enjoyed having me around.”

Tony sighed. “Having you around always had me on my toes for some reason,” he admitted. Then, he let a small smile reach his lips. “But have you never heard that boys are mean to the people they secretly like?”

Steve snorted, leaning even closer against Tony. “Well, yeah. But I think you might’ve gone a little overboard with that.”

“You think so?”

“Just a little.” Steve let a hand run along Tony’s jaw, his smile widening when Tony leaned into his touch. “You’re the most intimidating person I’ve ever met,” Steve whispered, but though he was quiet, his voice remained sincere. “You still are, to some degree. It took me a while to bring up the nerve to do anything about my feelings. But now, it doesn’t make me nervous anymore. I’m just… happy. You’ve made me happy in way I never thought I’d be.”

Tony swallowed. Hard. He didn’t know what to say, because this—this truly was a version of Steve Rogers who loved him. And he had never known a love like this. Somehow, Tony had always felt isolated, imprisoned by his own emotions—feeling alone even when in the company of others.

But here… only four years later… it seemed he was practically swimming in a love that transcended time.

Because for some impossible reason, this man, this brave man who’d pushed him to his limits so often that Tony had often crossed them without even noticing—he’d wanted to marry him.

It would take a long time for Tony to wrap his head around that, but… no matter what would happen from here on out… there had been a version of Steve who’d once had said ‘yes’ to him.

Tony cleared his throat, and took a step forward, and out of Steve’s embrace. His eyes flickered to his watch. It was already 8.59.

“It’s time,” he announced, just as the doors to the workshop opened and the others stepped in.

There was a moment’s hesitation, when Steve looked like he wanted to say more, but eventually, he just nodded. He took a last step towards him, looking at Tony with the sweetest smile he had ever seen. “I’m ready,” he said. “Bring me home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chap will be up sometime next weekend. If I can make it online after watching IW, that is.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm so very sorry for the delay. Enjoy the final chap!

* * 5/7/18, 09:01 PM * *

_Steve_

 

It was happening again, except in reverse. One moment Steve was encased in softness, then, he stood in Tony’s workshop. This time, however, it took only a second for him to orient himself and realize that he was back in his own time.

He staggered and leaned against the wall for balance. On the other end of the room, Tony was bending to look into one of the monitors. Next to him stood Bruce, Doctor Strange, Natasha, Sam and Bucky.

“I’m not sure it’s working,” Tony was saying. “The numbers seem good, but nothing is happening.”

Steve looked down at himself, still trying to get his breath back from the transition. He noticed that he was still very naked. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to remember it—Tony’s smile when he’d kissed him goodbye—then, he covered his private parts as best as he could and cleared his throat. “I think it worked just fine,” he said.

All of them turned around abruptly and saw him. Tony’s eyes widened as he took him in. “Steve?” he asked, his voice a bit shrill.

“Yes.”

“This time’s Steve,” Natasha clarified.

 _“Yes,”_ Steve agreed.

While the others broke into big smiles, Bucky walked over to bring him some clothes. All the while, Steve’s eyes lingered on Tony, watching how his shoulders were hunched a little, his gaze downcast and his face expressionless.

Steve swallowed. It was hard to tell if Tony knew about their future, or if he was just generally not that keen on seeing him. It was all… it was all equally likely, wasn’t it? Even though he’d spent days—weeks—around Tony Stark, he had no idea what _this_ Tony Stark truly thought of him. And all in all, the last time they’d seen each other, they’d barely shared a few civil words.

“Good to have you back, man,” Sam said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, after Steve had dressed himself.

“What... what’s been happening while I’ve been gone?” Steve asked.

“Nothing much,” Bucky said. “We just stole some crazy doctor’s time machine in Latveria for you.”

That had Steve smile. “And the other Steve helped?”

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed. “We worked together well.”

Of course they would, Steve thought. His future self had worked with a functioning team for years. He _would’ve_ known how to bring them all together again.

“That’s good,” he looked around at everyone, “thank you, for getting me back.”

The others just nodded and broke into easy chatter.

When Steve looked for Tony again, he saw him standing at the sidelines. His gaze was still off in the distance somewhere and his face was like a careful constructed mask of stone.

It was almost painful to watch. He’d gotten used to 2022’s Tony with all his emotions so vivid on his face. He remembered when he first met that Tony, all bounce and vitality, flirting, smirking, laughing, kissing him. His emotions had been out in the open then.

He’d almost forgotten this quiet, withdrawn version of Tony even existed. And a part of this was Steve’s doing—he knew that now.

When Tony tried to leave quietly, Steve immediately followed. The others cast him strange looks, but he ignored them. He couldn’t—no matter what would happen now, he couldn’t just let Tony go. Not after everything. Just outside of the workshop, he caught up to him, stopping him with a hand on his arm.

“Tony, wait.”

That made Tony’s gaze finally meet his, his eyes narrowing. “Yes?”

“We should talk,” Steve said. “Don’t you think?”

Instead of looking pleased, Tony’s face tightened even more. He cast his lashes down so that Steve couldn’t see his eyes. Then, the corner of his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I guess we should.”

“I…” He didn’t know what to say. So he decided to just outright ask. “Do you know?”

“You gotta be a bit more specific, Cap. I know a lot of things.”

He barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “About us,” he clarified. “About our future.”

There was a slight… flush… forming on Tony’s skin. He tried to avert his gaze without outward turning around, but then he seemed to decide to stand his ground instead.

“ _A_ future,” Tony said. “One of many. Time travel is all about possibilities and changes.”

For some reason, Tony’s answer didn’t surprise him much. It still hurt, but it wasn’t a surprise.

“So you think it’s not our future,” he prompted, looking straight at Tony.

“What, Steve,” Tony said, his gaze mocking. “You want to tell me you suddenly have feelings for me?”

 _Yes_ , Steve wanted to say. Followed by: _And it’s not all that sudden._

“I get that this must’ve been confusing. I can only imagine how much,” Tony said. “But let’s be honest here. This…” He waved his hand at the space between them. “Won’t be happening, right? I mean… can _you_ picture us together?”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again. He knew he had to say _something_. He had the words on the tip of his tongue, but now that he faced Tony, a man who intimidated him in a way no other person had ever managed to do, all arguments seemed to fail him.

It was so strange—this was still the same man he’d kissed only minutes ago. The same man who’d so easily declared his love for Steve. And yet… this was a version of Tony who, as far as Steve knew, still couldn’t stand to be around him for longer than was absolutely necessary.

Tony sighed when Steve didn’t say anything, his arms wrapping around himself as if he had to hold himself together. “You should get settled in,” he said, his voice kind. “The others are staying here as well. I put Wilson and Barnes next to your room, which is—still the same. Nothing has changed, so… yeah, you’re all welcome to stay as long as you want.”

Steve blinked, raised a brow at him. “Even Bucky?”

Tony pursed his lips. “I said ‘all’, didn’t I?”

Steve paused, wanting so badly to hug Tony, it was almost physically painful. “Thank you. I—I really appreciate it.”

Tony nodded. He turned to leave again, then stopped. Steve watched as he clenched and unclenched the hand at his side, but eventually, Tony put the same hand on his shoulder, lingering for a moment.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re back,” he said, smiling a very flimsy smile, before he walked around the corner and out of Steve’s sight.

 

* * 5/7/18, 10:46 PM * *

_Steve_

 

Natasha and Sam were already sitting in his room when Steve stepped out of his bathroom after taking a shower. He’d sort of expected their visit, he just wished they’d given him a bit more time to get settled in first.

The sound of the door made them turn around.

“Hey,” Natasha said. Sam only waved.

Steve stopped as he regarded them. The worried expressions, the supportive postures.

 _They knew,_ Steve guessed. They had that look on their faces, a hint of pity and disbelief with lots of curiosity, which could only mean that they were here to console him.

Great.

The door opened again as Bucky came in with a box of donuts. He only nodded his greetings as he stepped past him in silence.

After setting the donuts onto the couch table, he sat down with an expectant expression.

“Can’t we do this tomorrow?” Steve asked, sighing. “I’m not really in the mood for an intervention.”

Natasha only leaned forward at the same time as Sam shook his head. “It’s sweet that you think you have a say in it,” Natasha said.

Steve scoffed, but he eventually slumped into a chair, surrendering to the situation. “So?” he asked.

“We want to know… how things were between us,” Natasha said. “The team, I mean.”

“Good,” Steve said outright. “And strange. Not in a bad way, not at all. They were all very close.”

“And were we _all_ there?” Natasha asked. “Living together again?”

“Yes, all of us,” Steve confirmed. “They do get along well. And they make a great team. I mean … we do. Or will do. Hopefully.”

Natasha raised both brows in a manner that said she hadn’t expected that answer. And maybe that it was the good kind of surprise. She shared a look with Bucky, who cast her a warm smile in return, and Steve had to bite his lower lip so he wouldn’t comment on that.

The two of them—they’d figure it out eventually. On their own terms.

“And the other Steve?” Steve asked. “What was he like?”

Sam shrugged a little. “He was you.”

“He wouldn’t take shit from anyone,” Bucky added, then grinned. “So yeah, he was you.”

“There must have been some difference.”

Bucky glanced at Natasha again, and they seemed to come to some sort of understanding. “He was sort of…  attached,” he said, “… to Tony.”

Steve gave him a hard look. “Just so you know, you and Tony are kind of best buds in the future.”

“What?” Bucky stared at him in disbelief. “That can’t be true.”

“Saw it,” said Steve simply.

“But… he _hates_ me.”

“Not so much anymore, no.”

Natasha looked amused, Sam had a small smile on his face, Bucky was just frowning at the table.

“Tony’s done a lot for us this past year,” Steve added, feeling the need to say this—because time travel and all of its consequences aside, he’d wanted to make them understand for a long time. “The fact that we can live here now shows how much. And we haven’t given him any credit for it. I want to change that.”

After a moment, Sam nodded. “He’s been trying. He tried to do the right thing, whether we wanted him to or not.”

“Right,” Steve said. “I’ve seen what the team can be like if we try to work together. _Really_ work together, hand in hand. It’s worth it. And I want us to try and get there.”

“I agree,” Natasha said, smiling that bemused smile of hers. “But you’re being evasive about Tony. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”

Steve groaned. He briefly put his face in his hands, felt his cheeks flush slightly. “It’s none of your business, Natasha.”

“It’s just us,” Bucky said. “And we already figured out you guys have a… _thing_ … going in the future. Your future version never confirmed it, but you couldn’t be subtle if your life depended on it. So what is it, you’re together? Or is it just sex?”

Steve huffed, staring at the ceiling for a moment, before looking back at Bucky. “No. We’re … married.”

“What?” Sam blurted, his eyes big.

Natasha’s face was unreadable, only Bucky looked equally baffled. He sat back, huffing. “Wow,” he breathed, pushing a hand through his long hair.

“Yeah… _wow_.” Steve bit his lower lip. “Imagine my surprise. He kind of kissed me the moment I arrived there. Didn’t know I wasn’t his husband.”

The words were not even out of his mouth before he felt himself blushing for real.

“Oh,” Bucky’s eyes widened even further, then narrowed. _“Really?”_

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Sam nodded. “I mean… you’ve sorta made out with a married guy.”

Natasha smirked. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You’re a real homewrecker,” Bucky added, though his lips twitching with a smile.

“Not when it’s _my_ home to wreck,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. He could remember that moment so vividly. Tony lying on the couch beneath him, looking at him with those adoring eyes, breath on his skin, lips tingling from his kisses.

It was gone in a blink.

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve said. “Tony already said… he said it was just ‘a’ future, not necessarily ours. The Tony from the other time said something similar. That time travel always creates divergences.”

“Tony’s full of shit,” Natasha said on an eye-roll. “Time travel might influence your memories and your behavior, true, but it doesn’t turn you into different people.”

Secretly, Steve had to agree with Natasha. After all, he had seen how good it could be between them. To throw all that away, all that love and caring and passion and tenderness, which was what he had always wanted but never received. To turn his back on that…

He couldn’t do it. No matter how much Tony tried to push him away.

The question remained whether Steve had the courage to actually go through with this. He had always been a bit of a coward when relationships were concerned, and Tony…

Tony really was the most intimidating person Steve had ever met.

It likely wouldn’t be easy to change one’s modus operandi. It was one thing to know that they could be good together, and another entirely to figure out how to get there.

Because no matter how much Steve wished they could just skip ahead and be the Steve and Tony from 2022—they weren’t. Here, in 2018, they were still a little broken, still far apart from each other.

But Steve also thought of the way his relationship with Tony had already changed in these past years. It had taken them nearly _two_ years—first fighting it both visibly and vocally—to get along on a basic level. Then staying in contact, and finally coming back to each other’s side when they realized they were much better off when they worked together.

And then, of course, the Accords. The Breaking Point. He had hurt Tony, he saw how much only now. And even then, in Siberia, Tony had still wanted to help.

God, Steve had been such an idiot for not seeing it sooner. The raw emotion in Tony’s gaze when they’d discussed the Accords, his gaze almost swimming in tears when he’d looked at him in Siberia.

_The only reason why I resented you so much is because you’re about the only person in the world who can hurt me this deeply._

Tony _did_ have feelings for him! Even if they never got married, even if they didn’t get together, Steve knew Tony cared for him. More than a friend, more than a teammate. They had only hurt each other so badly because there was so much love between them.

Which meant…

…he’d been an idiot for far too long. He finally needed to take that step, laying himself open and daring to face the consequences, because what Tony had said in 2022 was true.

They were worth _everything_ , even the risk of getting his heart broken.

 

* * 5/7/18, 11:32 PM * *

_Tony_

 

Tony sat in a chair on the balcony, staring at the forest that surrounded the compound. He’d been sitting here for the better part of the night, trying to keep the thoughts running around in his head to a minimum.

It was dark outside, only the moon cast a soft light down on him. Once he’d heard the door to his room opening, he spotted Steve’s silhouette behind the windows and Tony’s breath caught a little when he lingered on his profile. He really was beautiful. How had he never admitted to himself how beautiful Steve was?

For the longest moment, Steve simply stood inside Tony’s room, taking everything in. And not for the first time, Tony wondered what he’d seen in 2022. Had this room been _theirs,_ had Steve’s stuff been lying around next to Tony’s? Which side had Steve slept on? Which chair did he use when reading one of his history books? Had Steve really been happy here, with Tony at his side?

A shudder went through Tony’s body, because he knew very well that they might never get there. That he wouldn’t allow himself to take that step. That this might be one of those divergences that were caused during time travel. And Steve— _this Steve_ —never would be his.

Eventually, Steve walked over to the balcony door, leaning against the doorframe, and cleared his throat.

“I thought you’d come,” Tony said without looking up. “You’re too damn stubborn to let it go.”

“Do you _want_ me to let it go?” Steve asked, and Tony only pressed his lips together, for once unable to find a proper answer. Steve sighed. “You know we have to talk about it eventually.”

Tony turned towards him. “I already told you. It doesn’t have to be our future. We’re free people… with free wills. You can stop worrying about it.”

Steve frowned. “I’m not worrying, I—”

“Then what exactly do you _want_ from me?” Tony asked. He’d meant to snap at Steve—though, all things considered, his voice sounded far less vicious than it could have been.

“I want to talk about the fact that we got married,” Steve said and exhaled a long breath. “In _four_ years. Don’t you think we should talk about that? About what that means for us?”

 _I’m scared shitless of what that means for us,_ Tony thought.

Following a sudden urge to get some space, he stood up and walked over to the balcony’s railing, pressing both hands down on it. He shook his head as if to clear it, then just looked into the distance.

It took over a minute before Tony found his voice again.

“Why do you believe anything about us could ever be good?” he asked without looking at Steve. “I mean… I’ve met your future version and I know he believed in it. But I don’t… I don’t know how you and I can be together and not hurt each other.”

He turned around again then, looking at Steve while pressing his back against the railing. Steve’s blue eyes were full of emotion, and Tony’s own widened a little when he saw Steve stepping closer. “With the Accords,” Tony went on. “I’d like to think I’ve done everything I could to get through the whole deal—with you, _together_ , as you always said. I would’ve turned the world upside down for you, then right side up again. I gave it my all—and my all wasn’t enough. How can you possibly believe you and I can make long-term work? That there is something to salvage between us, when it’s clear that being apart is the only thing that ever worked for us. I just… I want to, but I just don’t see it.”

“You want to?” Steve echoed and Tony tried hard to ignore how those words affected him. Steve sounded almost… _hopeful_.

He grimaced. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know you think we could never work it out,” Steve whispered, as he stepped up to Tony fully, coming to a halt just in front of him. “I understand that. We had plenty of chances to hurt each other and we took them. We’ve been a mess.”

Tony huffed in affirmation.

“But I want you to know,” Steve went on, “that meeting you, meeting the Avengers… it changed my life for the better. Until I fought with you by my side, I never knew how it felt to have someone understand. Ultron told me I can’t live without a war, and he might’ve been right about that. This, the team, _you_ , that’s the life I want to live. You’re the only person on the planet who understands what it's like.”

“You have Barnes and Sam and Natasha,” Tony said, his knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping the railing. “You _have_ people who understand. You don’t need me. You proved as much when you left me behind.”

Steve sighed. But instead of drawing back, he stepped even closer until he slightly pushed against Tony. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he loomed over Tony. “You had me pushed into a corner. But I’m sorry. I know I never told you in person.”

Gently, Steve let his hands wander down Tony’s arms, and Tony felt his own body shudder beneath his fingertips.

“Steve…” he started, the doubt and disbelief very prominent in his voice. There were _so many things_ he wanted to tell Steve _,_ but words froze in his throat. A part of him was still licking his wounds, just as much as Steve. “What—”

“I _missed_ you,” Steve breathed as if just pushing the words out there. “In the last couple of months… it was hell and I’ve missed you _so_ much. I tried getting over the part where I mourned you, but… it didn’t work out. When Bucky was in cryostasis, I… I hit a wall. Headfirst, full-speed. I sat by his side for hours, and I… talked. I told him everything. All my regrets. Not just about you, but _mostly_ about you. How much I hated myself for not taking chances when they should’ve been taken. For treating you the way I did back then. For not telling you about your parents. It wasn’t fair. I know.“ He paused briefly, gathering his words. “I also know we can be difficult. Especially together. But… Tony… I’m ready to face those difficulties. Even when I was in the future—even when everything was as perfect as it could possibly be, even when I had a version of you who loved me, I still missed _you_.”

Tony watched him for careful seconds, then repeated the words in his mind. “He ‘loved you’, huh?” he asked, and felt his expression darken.

“Yeah, he did,” Steve said, his voice hesitant.

“And what, you fell in love with him, too?” Tony asked, feeling his hands shaking.

The air around them grew tight. Constrictive.

“Yes,” Steve said softly, and even tried for a smile. “I did.”

Tony huffed and tried to walk away, winding his way out of Steve’s almost-embrace. Steve only stepped closer, however, keeping Tony right where he was. “Stay,” he said. “Please.”

“Why?” Tony snapped. “You obviously got everything you wanted from him already and—“

“Him?” Steve echoed. “There is no ‘him’, Tony. He is—”

“I don’t care what he is,” Tony all but snarled. He tried sidestepping him again, but Steve only moved with him, then bracketed him with both arms.

For a second Tony actually thought about jumping off of the balcony and, dammit, how could this _possibly_ be so hard? How did Steve always manage to rile him up so much?

Raising his chin, Tony was ready to give Steve a piece of his mind, but was robbed of the option, when—suddenly—Steve leaned in and kissed him.

Steve… Steve was kissing him.

Well… okay.

He used too much force at first, bumping their noses, and then he only pecked Tony like you’d peck your grandmother’s cheek. Tony exhaled a startled breath, and with both of his hands in Steve’s shirt, he kept him at a distance.

It was a moment that would make or break them, Tony knew that. And he couldn’t move… couldn’t _breathe…_ couldn’t do anything but stand there. And with the way Steve held him, like he was something very precious, Tony suddenly felt like he held Steve’s heart in his bare hands.

And in that moment, Tony… Tony knew exactly what he wanted. Of course he knew it. Had _always_ known it. So he covered the space between them, feeling Steve’s heart thudding against his chest, and drew him in again.

For a beat, Steve remained stock still, his whole body seemingly freezing. But then, his hands shifted and he was pulling Tony in, angling his head just right. The next thing Tony knew, Steve nipped at his lips with blunt teeth until he opened up for him, and it was as if they had been _made_ to fuse together. As though once they understood that there was no motive for fighting anymore, they might as well do this instead. Just a different sort of battle—it seemed they couldn’t stop battling each other if they tried.

Eventually, Steve drew back and looked at Tony for a long, studious moment.

Tony felt like he’d run a good hundred miles, if the way his heart was hammering inside his chest was any indication.

“He’s _you_ ,” Steve breathed. “That’s what I wanted to say. There’s no need to be jealous, I... I didn’t fall in love with a different version of you. I fell in love with _you_.”

Tony’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

_Jealous?_

Right… that’s what it had been hadn’t it? He’d been jealous. He could feel his face flushing a little red.

“You did?” he said, a half-question, as he regarded Steve more closely.

Steve nodded. “Yes. I meant it when I said I missed you.”

Tony shifted slightly, his legs brushing ever-so-slightly against Steve’s. He’d not realized how tense he’d been, only now that Steve’s admission lifted a weight off of Tony’s shoulders, he felt the relief so potent it was hard to stay upright. “I… missed you, too,” he whispered.

A shuddering breath left Steve’s lips and he looked equally relieved.

“And you think that… this future… is ours?” Tony asked.

Steve nodded. “I think it’s our choice to make, but… I want it to be,” he said, and the emotion storming Tony’s heart threatened to overflow.

He bit his lower lip. One of his hands settled on Steve’s shoulder, his thumb brushing along Steve’s neckline.

“I never allowed myself to want this,” Tony murmured.

Steve nodded, as if understanding exactly what Tony was saying. “Me neither.”

“I’m not sure I would have now. If Barnes hadn’t given me the weirdest shovel-talk in all history… I thought he’d lost his mind for even thinking this was a possibility.”

Steve laughed lightly. “And you listened to him?”

There was a gruff pause. Tony shrugged. “It’s… possible that he cleared up a few things for me.”

“Really?”

“Stop sounding so eager. We’re never going to be friends.”

Steve smiled, looking very amused. As if he knew something Tony didn’t. Which was very unsettling. “Of course not,” he said, and kissed Tony once more.

“But I’m sorry, too, for the record,” he added. “For attacking him, I mean.”

Steve nodded—and Tony knew then, as they wrapped themselves around each other, that there would never be enough of this. Not in four, ten, or twenty years. After all, with Steve at his side, he had seen glimpses of what they could be together. Lovers, partners, the dearest of friends. Equals. And Tony wanted it _all_ , every part of their lives, the good and the bad.

Because at the end of the day, only one thing truly mattered.

That they lived it together.

 

* * 6/24/22, 11:17 AM * *

_Steve_

 

Between one step and another, Steve’s surroundings changed.

He lost his balance and stumbled against a wall. Tony was standing at the other side of the workshop, apparently working on something. The thud made him swing around, though, and brought him racing towards Steve.

He grabbed his shoulders to hold him upright. “Hey, Cap, you alright?”

Steve raised a brow. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“I called you that just a minute ag—” Tony’s eyes widened as he met his gaze. “Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m home.”

Tony beamed and within a blink, his arms swept around Steve’s shoulders. “Welcome back, darling,” he said, pressing a lingering kiss on Steve’s mouth.

Steve grinned, ignoring the fact that he was still buttnaked—not that his husband would mind, of course. He wrapped his own arms around Tony’s waist, raising him up a little, as he met his kisses with fervor.

Only much later, when they were both lying on the workshop couch, grinning from ear to ear and pressed together from head to toe, Steve took a moment to reflect back on what had happened.

“It’s weird… to have two sets of memories,” he whispered, as he pressed small kisses on Tony’s shoulder. With one hand, he drew artless patterns into Tony’s left hand, softly circling the burn mark he found there. “Do you think one of them will fade after a while?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter,” Tony decided. “All that matters is that you’re back with me. And that we got our heads out of our asses a second time around. Jeez.”

Steve nodded and sighed deeply with relief and satisfaction. “I forgot how bitter we were,” he whispered.

Tony laughed. “Yeah. I’m glad we’re past that.”

Steve hummed in agreement. He couldn’t even visualize it anymore. That a time existed when they both tried with all their might to hurt each other. Softly, he kissed the corner of Tony’s mouth while Tony sighed with contentment against Steve’s cheek.

“We were just lost,” Steve whispered, because it was true. Both of them had been lost, lonely, searching. Enemies, friends, then enemies again—and yet always feeling the pull. Inevitably drawn to each other.

Tony nodded, pulling Steve even closer. They smiled against each other’s mouths while Steve wrapped his own hand around Tony’s, covering his wedding ring protectively.


End file.
